LPoindextenColored 


IRYIN  S.GOBB 


LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

DAVIS 


\ 


MY  BOOK  — 


/.  Poindexter,  Colored 


By  Irvin  S.  Cobb 


Fiction 

J.  POINDEXTER,   COLORED 
SUNDRY    ACCOUNTS 
FROM  PLACE  TO  PLACE 
THOSE    TIMES   AND   THESE 
LOCAL  COLOR 
OLD  JUDGE  PRIEST 
BACK  HOME 
THE  ESCAPE  OF  MR.  TRIMM 

Wit  and  Humor 

ONE    THIRD   OFF 

A  PLEA  FOR  OLD  CAP  COLLIER 

THE  ABANDONED  FARMERS 

THE  LIFE  OF  THE  PARTY 

EATING  IN  TWO  OR  THREE  LANGUAGES 

"OH,  WELL,  YOU  KNOW  HOW  WOMEN  ARE!" 

FIBBLE  D.D. 

"SPEAKING  OF  OPERATIONS — " 

EUROPE    REVISED 
ROUGHING  IT  DE  LUXE 
COBB'S  BILL  OF  FARE 
COBB'S    ANATOMY 


Miscellany 


THE  THUNDERS  OF  SILENCE 
THE  GLORY  OF  THE  COMING 
PATHS  OF  GLORY 
"SPEAKING  OF  PRUSSIANS — " 


New  York 
George  H.  Doran  Company 


J.  Poindexter,  Colored 

By 

Irvin  S.  Cobb 

Author  of 

"Old  Judge  Priest,"  "Speaking 
of  Operations—"  Etc. 


New   York 
George  H.  Doran  Company 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


Copyright,  1922, 
By  George  H.  Doran  Company 


Copyright,  1922, 
By   The  Curtis  Publishing  Company 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


/.  Poindexter,  Colored 


TO 
MARGARET  ILLINGTON  BOWES 


/.  Poindexter,  Colored 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

ONE: 
TWO: 

THREE : 

FOUR: 

FIVE: 

six: 

SEVEN : 
EIGHT: 

NINE: 
TEN: 

ELEVEN : 
TWELVE : 
THIRTEEN: 
FOURTEEN : 
FIFTEEN : 
SIXTEEN : 
SEVENTEEN : 
EIGHTEEN : 
NINETEEN : 
TWENTY  : 
TWENTY-ONE : 
TWENTY-TWO  : 


Down  Yonder 
North-Bound 
Manhattan  Isle 
Harlem  Heights 
Local  Colored 
Gold  Coast 
Country  Side 
Dark  Secrets 
Movie-Land 
Black  Belt 
Afric  Shores 
Business  Deals 
Private  Life 
Oiled  Skids 
Fet  to  Zym 
Lady-Like! 
Sable  Plots 
White  Hopes 
Pistol  Plays 
Piebald  Joys 
Headed  Home 
Last  Words 


II 
27 

41 
61 
88 

94 
103 
114 

120 
140 


162 

167 

173 
193 

201 
210 
224 

235 

247 

252 
264 


Vll 


/.  Poindexter,   Colored 


/.  Poindexter,   Colored 

CHAPTER  I 

Down    Yonaer 

MY  name  is  J.  Poindexter.    But  the 
full   name    is   Jefferson    Exodus 
Poindexter,   Colored.     But  most 
always  in  general  I  has  been  known  as  Jeff, 
for  short.    The  Jefferson  part  is  for  a  white 
family  which  my  folks  worked  for  them  one 
time  before  I  was  born,  and  the  Exodus  is 
because  my  mammy  craved  I  should  be 
named  after  somebody  out  of  the  Bible. 
How  I  comes  to  write  this  is  this  way: 

It  seems  like  my  experiences  here  in  New 
York  is  liable  to  be  such  that  one  of  my 
white  gentleman  friends  he  says  to  me  I 
should  take  pen  in  hand  and  write  them  out 
just  the  way  they  happen  and  at  the  time 
they  is  happening,  or  right  soon  afterwards, 
whilst  the  memory  of  them  is  clear  in  my 
brain;  and  then  he'll  see  if  he  can't  get  them 
printed  somewheres,  which  on  top  of  the 

other  things  which  I  now  is,  will  make 

ii 


12  J.  Poindexter,  Colored 

me  an  author  with  money  coming  in  steady. 
He  says  to  me  he  will  fix  up  the  spelling 
wherever  needed  and  attend  to  the  punctu 
ating  ;  but  all  the  rest  of  it  will  be  my  own 
just  like  I  puts  it  down.  I  reads  and  writes 
very  well  but  someway  I  never  learned  to 
puncture.  So  the  places  where  it  is  neces 
sary  to  be  punctual  in  order  to  make  good 
sense  and  keep  everything  regulation  and 
make  the  talk  sound  natural  is  his  doings 
and  also  some  of  the  spelling.  But  every 
thing  else  is  mine  and  I  asks  credit. 

My  coming  to  New  York,  in  the  first 
place,  is  sort  of  a  sudden  thing  which  starts 
here  about  a  month  before  the  present  time. 
I  has  been  working  for  Judge  Priest  for 
going  on  sixteen  years  and  is  expecting  to 
go  on  working  for  him  as  long  as  we  can  get 
along  together  all  right,  which  it  seems  like 
from  appearances  that  ought  to  be  always. 
But  after  he  gives  up  being  circuit  judge  on 
account  of  him  getting  along  so  in  age  he 
gets  sort  of  fretful  by  reasons  of  him  not 
having  much  to  do  any  more  and  most  of 
his  own  friends  having  died  off  on  him. 
When  the  state  begins  going  Republican 


Down  Yonder          13 

about  once  in  so  often,  he  says  to  me,  kind 
of  half  joking,  he's  a  great  mind  to  pull  up 
stakes  and  move  off  and  go  live  somewheres 
else.  But  pretty  soon  after  that  the  whole 
country  goes  dry  and  then  he  says  to  me 
there  just  naturally  ain't  no  fitten  place  left 
for  him  to  go  to  without  he  leaves  the 
United  States. 

The  old  boss-man  he  broods  a  right  smart 
over  this  going-dry  business.  Being  a  judge 
and  all,  he's  always  been  a  great  hand  for 
upholding  the  law.  But  this  here  is  one 
law  which  he  cannot  uphold  and  yet  go  on 
taking  of  his  sweetening  drams  steady  the 
same  as  he's  been  used  to  doing  all  his  life. 
And  from  the  statements  which  he  lets  fall 
from  time  to  time  I  gleans  that  he  can't 
hardly  make  up  his  mind  which  one  of  the 
two  of  them — law  or  liquor — he's  going  to 
favor  the  most  when  the  pinch  comes  and 
the  supply  in  the  dineroom  cupboard  be 
gins  running  low.  Every  time  he  starts  off 
for  a  little  trip  somewheres  and  has  to  tote 
a  bottle  along  in  his  ,hip  pocket  instead  of 
being  able  to  walk  into  a  grocery  and  re 
fresh  himself  over  the  bar  like  he's  been 


14  /.  Poindcxter,  Colored 

doing  for  mighty  nigh  sixty  years,  I  hears 
him  speaking  mumbling  *  words  to  himself. 
I  hears  him  saying  it's  come  to  a  pretty  pass 
when  a  Kentucky  gentleman  has  either  got 
to  compromise  with  his  conscience  or  play 
a  low-down  trick  on  his  appetite.  Off  and 
on  it  certainly  does  pester  him  mightily. 

But  just  about  the  middle  of  the  present 
summer  he  gets  a  letter  from  his  married 
niece,  her  which  used  to  be  Miss  Sally 
Fanny  Priest  but  is  now  married  to  a  Yan 
kee  gentleman  named  Fairchild  and  living 
in  Denver,  Colorado.  Miss  Sally  Fanny 
is  the  closest  kin-folks  the  old  judge  has  got 
left  in  the  world ;  and  she  ups  and  writes  to 
him  and  invites  him  to  come  on  out  there 
where  she  lives  and  stay  a  spell  with  them 
and  then  toward  winter  go  along  with  her 
to  a  place  called  Bermuda  which  it  seems 
like  from  what  she  says  in  the  letter,  Ber 
muda  is  one  of  these  here  localities  where 
you  can  still  keep  on  having  a  toddy  when 
you  feels  like  it  without  breaking  the  law. 

So  he  studies  about  it  awhile  and  then  he 

1Note  by  Jeff's  amanuensis. — In  the  part  of  the  Union 
from  which  Jeff  hails  and  among  his  race  the  word  mum 
bling  denotes  complaint,  peevishness,  a  querulous  utterance. 


Down  Yonder          15 

says  to  me  one  night  he  believes  he'll  go, 
which  he  does  along  about  four  weeks  ago, 
leaving  me  behind  to  sort  of  look  out  for 
the  home  place  out  on  Clay  Street.  My 
wages  goes  on  the  same  as  if  he  was  there, 
and  I  has  but  little  to  do,  but  the  place  seems 
mighty  lonesome  to  me  without  the  old  boss- 
man  pottering  'round  doing  this  and  that 
and  the  other  thing.  I  certainly  does  miss 
seeing  the  sight  of  him.  Every  time  I 
walks  through  the  front  part  of  the  house, 
and  it  all  empty  and  closed  up  and  smelling 
kind  of  musted,  and  sees  his  old  umbrella 
hanging  on  the  front  hall  hat-rack  where  he 
forgot  and  left  it  there  the  day  he  went 
away,  I  gets  a  sort  of  a  low  feeling  in  my 
mind.  It's  like  having  the  toothache  in  a 
place  where  there  ain't  no  tooth  to  have  it 
in. 

And  I  keeps  on  thinking  about  the  old 
days  when  he'd  be  setting  out  on  the  front 
porch  as  night-time  come  on,  with  some  of 
them  old-time  friends  of  his  dropping  in  on 
him,  and  me  bringing  them  drinks  from  the 
sideboard,  and  them  laughing  and  smoking 
and  joking  and  carrying  on;  or  else  maybe 


16  J.  Poindexter,  Colored 

talking  about  the  Confederate  War  and  the 
Battle  of  Shiloh  and  all.  But  most  of  them 
is  now  dead  and  gone  and  the  old  judge  is 
away  out  yonder  in  Denver,  Colorado,  a- 
many  and  a-many  a  mile  from  me;  and  all 
I  can  hear  as  I  comes  up  the  walk  from  the 
front  gate  after  dark  is  the  katy-dids  calling 
in  the  silver-leaf  trees  and  all  I  can  hear 
when  I  unlocks  the  door  and  goes  inside 
is  one  of  them  old  chimney  swifts  up  the 
chimney,  going:  "Whoosh,  whoosh, 
whoosh!"  I've  took  notice  before  now  that 
an  empty  house  which  it  has  always  been 
empty  ain't  half  so  lonesome  for  you  to  be 
in  it  as  one  which  has  been  lived  in  by 
people  you  knowed  but  they  have  now  gone 
entirely  away. 

So,  after  about  two  weeks  of  being  alone, 
I  gets  so  restless  I  feels  like  I  can't  stand  it 
very  much  longer  without  breaking  loose 
someway.  So  one  Sunday  about  half  past 
two  o'clock  in  the  evening,  I'm  going  on 
past  a  young  white  gentleman  by  the  name 
of  Mr.  Dallas  Pulliam's  house  and  he 
comes  out  on  his  front  porch  and  calls  over 
to  me  and  tells  me  to  come  on  in  there 


Down  Yonder          17 

'cause  he  wants  to  talk  to  me  about  some 
thing.  So  I  crosses  over  from  the  other 
side  of  the  street  and  walks  up  to  the  porch 
steps  and  takes  off  my  hat  and  asks  him  how 
he  is  getting  along  and  he  says  he  ain't  got 
no  complaint  and  he  asks  me  how  is  I  get 
ting  along  my  own  self  and  I  tells  him  just 
sort  of  toler'ble  so-and-so,  and  then  he  says 
to  me  how  would  I  like  to  take  a  trip  to 
New  York  City?  I  thinks  he  must  be  fun 
ning.  But  I  says  to  him,  I  says: 

"How  come  New  York  City,  Mn 
Dallas?" 

So  he  tells  me  that  here  lately  he's  been 
studying  a  right  smart  about  going  to  New 
York  and  staying  there  a  spell  on  a  sort  of 
a  vacationlike,  and  if  he  likes  it  maybe  he'll 
settle  there  and  go  into  business.  He  says 
he's  about  made  up  his  mind  to  take  some 
likely  black  boy  along  with  him  for  to  be 
his  body-servant  and  look  after  his  clothes 
and  things  and  everything  and  he's  thinking 
that  maybe  I  might  be  the  one  to  fill  the 
bill ;  and  then  he  says  to  me : 

"How  about  it,  Jeff — want  to  go  along 


18  /.  Poindexter^  Colored 

and  give  the  big  town  the  once-over  or 
not?" 

I  then  sees  he  is  not  funning  but  is  mak 
ing  me  a  straight  business  proposition.  I 
thanks  him  and  says  to  him  that  I  has  ever 
had  the  crave  to  travel  far  and  wide  and 
that  I  likewise  has  often  heard  New  York 
spoke  of  as  a  very  pleasant  place  to  go  to, 
by  them  which  has  done  so,  and  also  a  place 
where  something  or  other  is  going  on  most 
of  the  time.  But  I  says  to  him  I'm  afraid 
I  can't  go  on  account  I'm  under  obligations 
to  Judge  Priest  by  reasons  of  us  having  been 
together  so  long  and  him  having  left  me  in 
complete  utter  charge  of  our  house.  He 
says,  though,  he  thinks  maybe  he  can  attend 
to  that  part  of  it  all  right;  he  says  he'll 
write  a  letter  to  the  Judge  specifying  about 
what's  come  up  and  he's  pretty  sure  it  can 
be  fixed  up  so's  I  can  go.  He  says  if  I  don't 
like  the  job  after  I  gets  there,  he'll  pay  my 
way  back  home  again  any  time  I  wants  to 
come,  or  when  the  old  judge  needs  me, 
either  one.  He  says  he  ain't  adopting  me, 
he's  just  borrowing  me. 

I  always  has  liked  Mr.  Dallas  Pulliam, 


Down  Yonder          19 

him  being  one  of  the  most  freehanded 
young  white  gentlemen  in  town.  Of  course, 
off  and  on,  I've  heard  the  rest  of  the  white 
folks  hurrahing  him  behind  his  back  about 
the  way  he's  handled  all  that  there  money 
which  was  left  to  him  here  a  few  years  back 
when  his  paw  died.  There  was  that  time 
when  he  bought  a  sugar  plantation  down  in 
Louisiana,  sight  onseen,  and  when  he  went 
down  to  see  it,  couldn't  do  so  without  he'd 
a-done  a  whole  heap  of  bailing-out  first,  by 
reason  of  its  being  under  three  feet  of  stand 
ing  water.  Anyway,  that's  what  I  heard 
tell;  thought  I  reckon  it  wasn't  noways  as 
bad  as  what  some  of  the  white  folks  let  on. 
And  there  was  that  other  time  only  a  few 
months  back  when  he  decided  to  start  up  a 
buggy-factory.  I  overhears  Judge  Priest 
speaking  about  that  one' day  to  Dr.  Lake. 

"That  young  man,  Dallas  Pulliam,  cer 
tainly  is  a  sagacious  and  a  f  arseein'  person," 
he  says.  "Jest  when  automobiles  has  got  so 
cheap  that  every  hill-billy  in  the  county  kin 
afford  to  own  at  least  one,  he's  fixin'  to  go 
into  the  buggy-factory  business  on  an  exten 
sive  scale.  Next  time  I  run  into  him  I'm 


20  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

goin'  to  suggest  to  him  that  when  the  buggy 
trade  seems  to  sort  of  slack  up,  ez  possibly 
it  may,  that  instid  of  layin'  off  his  hands  he 
might  start  in  to  turnin'  out  flint-lock  mus 
kets  fur  the  U.  S.  Army." 

I  suspicions  that  Judge  Priest  or  some 
body  else  must  have  spoke  to  Mr.  Dallas 
along  those  lines  because  he  didn't  go  into 
the  buggy  business  after  all.  For  the  past 
several  months  he  ain't  been  doing  much 
of  anything,  so  far  as  I  knows  of,  except 
pranking  'round  and  courting  Miss  Hen 
rietta  Farrell. 

Well,  white  folks  may  poke  their  fun  at 
him  unbeknownst,  but  he's  got  manners 
suitable  to  make  him  popular  with  me. 
He's  the  kind  of  a  white  gentleman  that's 
this  here  way:  He'll  wear  a  new  necktie 
or  a  fancy  vest  about  three  or  four  times 
and  then  he'll  get  tired  of  it  and  pass  it  on 
to  the  first  one  which  comes  along.  More 
over,  him  and  me  is  mighty  near  the  same 
size  and  I  knows  full  well  in  advance,  just 
from  looking  at  him  that  Sunday  evening 
standing  there  on  his  porch,  that  the  very 
same  suit  of  clothes  which  he's  got  on  then 


Down  Yonder          21 

will  fit  me  without  practically  no  altera 
tions.  It's  a  checked  suit,  too,  and  mighty 
catchy  to  the  eye.  So  right  off  I  tells  him 
if  Judge  Priest  gives  his  free  will  and  con 
sent  I'll  certainly  be  down  at  the  depot 
when  that  there  old  engine  whistle  blows 
for  to  get  aboard  for  New  York  City. 
Which  he  then  asks  me  for  Miss  Sally 
Fanny's  address  and  promises  he'll  write 
out  there  that  very  night  to  find  out  can  I 

go- 
It's  curious  how  news  does  travel  'round 

in  a  place  that's  the  right  size  for  every 
body  in  it  to  know  everybody  else's  business. 
Before  night  it  has  done  leaked  out  some 
how  that  I  is  seriously  considering  accept 
ing  going  to  New  York  with  young  Mr. 
Dallas  Pulliam;  and  by  next  morning,  lo 
and  behold,  if  it  ain't  all  over  town! 
Wherever  I  goes,  pretty  near  everybody  I 
meets,  whites  and  blacks  alike,  asks  me  how 
about  it  and  allows  I'm  powerful  lucky  to 
get  such  a  chance.  Mostly,  in  times  gone 
by,  when  my  race  goe,s  North  they  heads  for 
Chicago,  Illinois,  or  maybe  Detroit,  Michi 
gan,  or  Indianapolis,  Indiana.  No  sooner 


22  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

do  they  get  there  than  they  begins  writing 
back  saying  that  up  North  is  the  only  fitten 
place  for  colored  folks  to  be  at;  wages  high, 
times  easy,  and  white  folks  calling  you 
"Mister"  and  everything  pleasant  like  that. 
They  writes  that  there  is  not  no  Jim  Crow 
cars  nor  separate  seats  for  colored  at  the 
moving-pictures  nor  nothing  like  that.  But 
I  has  taken  notice  that  after  awhile  most  of 
'em  quits  writing  back  and  starts  coming 
back.  Some  stays  but  more  returns — and  is 
verging  on  shouting-happy  when  they 
crosses  the  Ohio  River  coming  in.  From 
what  I  hears  some  of  'em  say  after  they  gets 
home  and  has  got  a  full  meal  of  vittles  in 
side  of  them,  and  so  is  got  more  time  to 
talk,  I  has  made  up  my  mind  that  so  far  as 
my  own  color  is  concerned,  the  main  dif 
ference  from  the  South  is  this :  Up  North 
they  calls  you  "Mister"  but  they  don't  feed 
you! 

Still,  New  York  City  ain't  Chicago,  Illi 
nois,  nor  yet  it  ain't  Detroit,  Michigan;  and 
besides,  working  for  Mr.  Dallas  Pulliam, 
I  won't  have  to  be  worrying  about  when 
does  I  eat  next.  Still,  even  so,  I  says  to  my- 


Down  Yonder          23 

self  that  it  won't  be  no  harm  to  inquire 
round  now  that  the  word  is  done  leaked  out 
anyhow,  and  learn  something  more  than 
what  little  I  knows  about  New  York  City. 
But  it  seems  like,  outside  of  some  few  white 
folks,  there  is  not  nobody  I  knows  who's 
ever  been  there,  excusing  a  few  head  of 
draft-boys  which  went  there  enduring  of 
the  early  part  of  the  war;  and  they  wouldn't 
scarcely  count  neither  on  account  of  them 
just  passing  through  and  not  staying  over 
only  just  a  short  time  whilst  waiting  for  the 
boat  to  start.  Howsomever,  they  tells  mey 
one  and  all,  that  from  what  they  did  see  of 
it  they  is  willing  to  recommend  it  very 
highly. 

One  or  two  of  the  white  gentlemen  which 
I  is  well  acquainted  with,  they  tells  me 
the  same,  too.  Mr.  Jere  Fairleigh  he  takes 
me  into  his  law  office  when  I  meets  him  on 
the  street  and  speaks  to  him  about  it;  and 
he  gets  a  book  all  about  New  York  down 
off  of  one  of  his  shelves  and  he  reads  to  me 
where  the  book  says  that  in  New  York  there 
is  more  of  these  here  Germans  than  there  is 
in  any  German  city  except  one,  and  more 


24  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

Russians  than  there  is  in  any  Russia  city 
except  none,  and  more  Italians  than  there 
is  in  any  Italy  city  except  one,  and  more 
Hungarians  than  there  is  in  any  Hungry 
city  at  all,  and  so  on  and  so  forth.  I  says  to 
him,  I  says: 

"Mr.  Jere,  it  seems  lak  they  is  mo'  of 
ever'  nation  in  Noo  Yawk  'en  whut  they  is 
anywhars  else.  But  they  does  not  'pear  to 
be  nothin'  said  'bout  'Merikins.  How 
come,  suh?" 

He  says  he  reckons  there's  so  few  of  them 
there  that  the  man  which  wrote  the  book 
didn't  figure  it  was  worth  while  putting 
them  in.  Still,  he  says  I'll  probably  run 
into  somebody  once  in  awhile  which  speaks 
the  United  States  language. 

"  'Most  every  policeman  does,"  he  says, 
"I  understand  it's  the  law  that  they  have  to 
be  able  to  speak  it  before  they'll  let  'em  go 
on  the  force,  so  as  they  can  understand  the 
foreigners  that  come  over  from  the  main 
land  of  North  America  to  visit  in  New 
York." 

The  way  he  looks — so  sort  of  serious — 
when  he  says  that,  I  can't  tell  if  he's  in  earn- 


Down  Yonder         25 

est  or  not.  I  judges,  though,  that  he's  just 
having  his  fumdiddles  with  me.  And  then 
he  goes  on  and  tells  me  that  the  biggest  of 
everything  and  the  tallest  and  the  richest 
and  the  grandest  is  found  there  and  if  I 
don't  believe  it  is,  I  can  just  ask  any  New 
Yorker  after  I  gets  there  and  he'll  tell  me 
the  same. 

So,  taking  one  thing  with  another,  I'm 
mighty  much  pleased  when  the  word  comes 
along  in  about  a  week  from  then  that  the 
old  judge  says  I  can  go  and  sends  me  his 
best  wishes  and  a  twenty-dollar  bill  as  a 
parting  gift  and  friendship  offering.  He 
says  in  the  letter,  which  Mr.  Dallas  reads 
to  me,  to  tell  me  to  be  sort  of  careful  about 
sampling  the  stock  of  liquor  and  cigars  on 
the  sideboard  of  any  New  York  family 
when  I'm  in  their  house,  and  also  not  to 
start  in  wearing  a  strange  Yankee  gentle 
man's  clothes  without  telling  him  about  it 
first.  He  says  people  up  there  probably 
don't  understand  local  customs  as  they  have 
ever  prevailed  down  our  way,  and  if  I  ain't 
careful,  first  thing  I  know  there'll  be  a 
skinny  black  nigger  named  Jeff  locked  up 


26  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

in  the  county  jail  hollowing  for  help  and 
not  no  help  handy. 

But  that's  just  the  old  boss-man's  joke. 
He  always  is  been  the  beatenest  one  for 
twitting  me  about  little  things  around  the 
house!  Mr.  Dallas  he  knows  how  to  take 
what  the  Judge  says  and  so  does  I  and  we 
has  quite  a  laugh  together  over  the  letter. 

And  lessen  twenty-four  hours  from  that 
time  we  is  both  all  packed  up  and  on  our 
way,  New  York  bound,  me  wearing  one  of 
Mr.  Dallas'  suits  of  clothes  which  I  figures 
he  ain't  had  it  on  his  back  more  than  five 
or  six  times  before  altogether.  It's  a  suit 
of  a  most  pleasing  pattern,  too.  And  cut 
very  stylish,  with  a  belt  in  the  back. 


North  Bound          27 


CHAPTER  II 

North  Bound 

NEXT  morning  after  we  gets  across 
into  Ohio,  Mr.  Dallas  he  fetches 
me  into  the  Pullman  car  where 
he's  riding.  I  finds  myself  more  comfort 
able  there  than  I  has  been  riding  up  front 
in  the  colored  compartment,  but  lesser  easy 
in  my  mind.  I  enjoys  the  feel  of  them  soft 
seats  and  yet  I  gets  sort  of  uneasy  setting 
amongst  so  many  strange  white  folks.  Still, 
there  ain't  nobody  telling  me  to  roust  my 
self  out  from  there  and  after  a  while  I  gets 
more  used  to  being  where  I  now  is.  Also 
I  gets  acquainted  with  two  of  the  porters, 
the  one  on  our  car  and  the  one  on  the  car 
which  is  hitched  on  next  to  us.  When  they 
ain't  busy,  we  all  three  gets  out  in  the  little 
porches  betwixt  the  cars  and  confabs  to 
gether.  'Course  I  don't  let  on  to  them,  but 
all  the  time  I  studies  them  two  boys. 


28  /.  Poindcxtcr,  Colored 

The  one  on  our  car,  which  his  given  name 
is  Roscoe,  is  short  and  chunky  and  kind  of 
fatted  out;  he's  black  as  the  pots  and  power 
ful  nappy-headed  besides.  His  head  looks 
like  somebody  has  done  dipped  it  in  a  kettle 
of  grease  and  then  throwed  a  handful  of 
buckshot  at  it  and  they  all  stuck.  But  he's 
smart;  he  knows  what's  service.  I  sees  that 
plain. 

With  Roscoe  it's  this  way:  A  lady  gets 
on  board  the  car.  No  sooner  does  she  sit 
down  and  begin  to  fumble  with  the  hat-pins 
than  there's  old  Roscoe  standing  right 
alongside  of  her  holding  a  big  paper  bag 
in  his  hands  all  opened  out  for  her  to  put 
her  hat  in  it  and  keep  it  out  of  the  dust.  A 
gentleman  setting  in  the  smoking-room 
reaches  in  his  pocket  and  gets  a  cigar  out. 
Before  he  rightly  can  bite  the  end  of  it  off, 
here  is  this  here  same  Roscoe  at  his  elbow 
with  a  match  ready.  Roscoe  he  ain't  hang 
ing  back  waiting  for  folks  to  ask  him  for 
something  and  then  have  them  getting  all 
fretful  whilst  he's  running  to  find  what 
ever  'tis  they  wants.  No  sir,  not  him.  He's 
there  with  the  materials  almost  before  they 


North  Bound          29 

is  made  up  their  minds  what  it  is  they 
craves  next  He  just  naturally  beats  'em 
to  it;  which  I'll  tell  the  world  that's  service. 

He's  powerful  crafty  about  his  tips,  too. 
When  he  does  something  for  a  passenger 
and  the  passenger  reaches  in  his  pocket  to 
get  a  little  piece  of  chicken-feed  out  to  hand 
over  to  Roscoe,  he  smiles  and  holds  up  his 
hand. 

"No,  suh,"  he  says  to  him,  "keep  yore 
funds  whar  they  now  is,  please,  suh.  There 
ain't  no  hurry — we're  goin'  travel  quite  a 
piece  together.  Wen  we  gits  to  whar  you 
gits  off,  ef  you  is  puffec'ly  satisfied  wid  all 
whut  has  been  done  in  yore  behalf  then  you 
kin  slip  me  a  liP  reward,  ef  you's  a-mind  to." 

He  tells  me  in  confidences  that  working  it 
that-a-way  he  gets  dollars  where  he  would 
a-got  dimes.  He  calls  it  his  deferred  pay 
ment  plan.  He  says  some  months  his  tips 
run  three  times  what  his  wages  is.  I'll  say 
that  old  tar-baby  certainly  is  got  something 
in  his  head  besides  sockets  for  his  teeth  to 
set  in. 

The  other  porter,  the  one  which  is  on  the 
car  next  behind,  is  as  different  from  Roscoe 


30  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

as  day  is  from  night.  He  calls  himself 
Harold.  But  I  knows  just  from  looking  at 
him  that  he's  too  old  for  such  a  fancy  en 
titlement  as  that.  'Cause  Harold  is  a  new- 
issue  name  amongst  us  colored,  and  this 
here  boy  must  be  rising  of  forty  years  old, 
if  he's  a  day.  This  Harold  is  yellow-com 
plected  and  yet  he  ain't  the  pure  high  yel 
low,  neither;  he's  more  the  shade  of  a  slice 
of  scorched  sponge  cake.  He's  plenty  up- 
pidity.  And  I  takes  notice  that  the  further 
North  the  train  goes  the  more  uppidity  he 
gets.  He  quits  saying  "No,  ma'am,"  and 
"Yas,  suh,"  almost  before  we  leaves  Cin 
cinnati.  He  quits  saying  "Thanky,  suh" 
and  he  starts  saying  "I  thank  you,"  in  such 
a  way  it  sounds  like  he  was  actually  doing 
you  a  favor  to  accept  your  two  bits.  He 
starts  talking  back  to  passengers  which  com 
plains  about  something.  He  acts  more  and 
more  begrudgeful  until  it  looks  like  it  must 
actually  hurt  him  to  step  along  and  do  some 
thing  which  somebody  on  the  train  wants 
done.  Along  about  Pittsburgh  he's  got  so 
brash  that  I  keeps  watching  for  some  white 
man  to  rise  up  and  knock  that  boy's  mouth 


North  Bound          31 

so  far  round  from  the  middle  of  his  face 
it'll  look  like  his  side-entrance.  But  noth 
ing  like  that  don't  happen  and  I  is  most 
deeply  surprised  and  marvels  greatly.  I 
says  to  myself,  I  says : 

"Harold,"  I  says,  "I  aims  to  git  yore  like 
ness  well  fixed  in  my  mind  'cause  I  got  a 
presentermint  'at  you  ain't  goin'  be  'round 
yere  so  very  much  longer  an'  I  wants  to  be 
able  to  remember  how  you  looked,  after  you 
is  gone  frum  us.  Some  these  times  you  is 
goin'  git  yore  system  mixed  an'  start  bein' 
biggotty  on  yore  way  South  an'  'en  you  is 
due  to  wake  up  at  the  end  of  yore  run  all 
organized  to  attend  yore  own  fune'l.  Yas, 
suh,  man,  w'en  you  comes  to  in  Newerleans 
you'll  a-been  daid  fully  twelve  hours.  I 
kin  jest  shut  my  eyes  right  now  an'  see  the 
cemetery  sexton  pattin'  you  in  the  face  wid 
a  spade." 

I  talks  to  him  about  the  way  he  acts. 
Course  I  does  not  come  right  out  and  ask 
him  about  it;  but  I  leads  him  up  to  it  gentle 
and  roundabout.  He  tells  me  he  don't  aim 
to  let  nobody  run  over  him.  He  tells  me  he 
considers  himself  just  as  good  as  they  is,  if 


32  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

not  better.  He  says  he  lives  in  a  place 
called  Jersey  City  where  the  colored  race 
gets  their  bounden  rights  and  if  they  don't 
get  'em  they  up  and  contends  for  'em  until 
they  do.  I  says  to  him,  I  says : 

"Harold,"  I  says,  "I  ain't  never  been 
about  nowhars  much  till  this  present  trip 
an'  I  ain't  never  seen  much,  so  you  must  ex 
cuse  of  my  ign'ence  but  the  way  it  looks  to 
me,  I'd  ruther  be  happy  amongst  niggers 
then  miserable  amongst  w'ite  folks." 

He  says  to  me  ain't  I  got  no  respect  for 
my  color?  I  says  to  him  I's  got  so  much 
respect  for  it  that  I  ain't  aiming  to  jam  my 
self  into  places  where  I  ain't  desired.  He 
says  that  ain't  the  point;  he  says  the  point  is 
that  I  is  got  to  stand  up  for  the  entitled 
rights  and  privileges  of  the  colored  race.  I 
says  where  I  comes  from  I  also  has  got  to 
think  about  keeping  from  getting  my  head 
all  peeled.  He  says  to  me  I'll  find  out  be 
fore  I  has  been  long  up  North  that  there  is 
a  sight  of  difference  betwixt  Kentucky  and 
New  Jersey.  I  says  to  him  that  most  doubt 
less  he  is  right.  And  then  he  says  I  should 
also  be  careful  about  speaking  the  word 


North  Bound          33 

"nigger."  He  says  the  word  ain't  never 
used  no  more  amongst  colored  folks  which 
respects  themselves.  I  says  to  him,  I  says: 

"Huh  I"  I  says.  "Well,  then,  whut  does 
you  call  a  boy  w'en  you's  blabbin'  'long  wid 
him  friendly-lak?" 

He  says  it  is  different  when  I  is  strictly 
amongst  my  own  color,  but  that  I  mustn't 
never  speak  the  word  "nigger"  in  front  of 
white  folks  nor  never  allow  no  white  man 
to  call  me  that  and  get  away  with  it. 

I  says: 

"Not  even  ef  you  is  wu'kin'  fur  him  an' 
he  don't  call  it  to  you  to  hurt  yore  feelin's 
nor  to  demean  you  but  jest  sez  it  sociable 
an'  so-an'-so?" 

He  says: 

"Not  under  no  circumstances  whutsom- 


ever." 


I  says: 

"How  is  I  goin'  stop  him?" 
He  says: 

"Wid  yore  fists.    Or  half  of  a  loose  brick. 
Or  somethin'." 
I  says  to  Harold: 
"Harold,"  I  says,  "you  shore  wuz  right 


34  /.  Poittdexter,  Colored 

jest  now  w'en  you  norrated  'at  they  wuz  a 
diffience  betwixt  Kintucky  an'  up-North. 
Well,  live  an'  learn,"  I  says,  "live  an'  learn. 
Only,  ef  I  aims  to  learn  frum  you  I  has 
doubts  whether  I'll  live  so  ver'  much 
longer." 

We  talks  some  more  about  making 
money,  too.  It  seems  like  the  closer  you 
gets  to  New  York  City  the  more  you  thinks 
about  money.  I  noticed  it  then  and  I  notices 
it  since,  frequent.  He  says  to  me  that  some 
of  the  boys  in  the  sleeping-car  portering 
business  don't  depend  just  on  their  wages 
and  their  tips  alone.  He  says  they  has  an 
other  way  for  to  pick  up  loose  change.  He 
says  he  don't  follow  after  it  himself ;  he  says 
he  has  got  one  or  two  other  boys  in  mind 
which  he  has  talked  with  'em  and  knows 
how  they  does  it. 

I  says  to  him,  I  says : 

"Specify?" 

He  says: 

"The  way  these  yere  boys  gits  they  money 
is  'at  they  gits  it  late  at  night  after  ever'body 
has  done  went  to  baid.  Most  gin'elly  a  man 
'at's  travelin'  he  don't  keep  track  of  his  loose 


North  Bound          35 

change.  Anyhow,  he  don't  keep  near  ez 
close  track  of  it  ez  he  do  w'en  he's  home. 
He's  buyin'  hisse'f  a  cigar  yere  an'  a  paper 
back  book  there  an'  a  apple  in  this  place  an' 
a  sandwitch  in  'at  place,  an'  he  jest  stick  the 
change  in  his  pants  pocket  an'  goes  on  'bout 
his  bus'ness.  Well,  come  baid-time,  he 
turns  in.  We'll  say  you  is  the  porter  on  his 
car.  You  goes  th'ough  the  car  till  you 
comes  to  his  berth.  You  parts  the  curtains 
jest  ez  easy  ez  you  kin  an'  you  peeps  in 
th'ough  the  crack  an'  see  ef  he's  sleepin' 
good.  Ef  his  pants  is  all  folded  up  smooth 
you  better  ramble  along  an'  leave  'at  man 
be.  Folded  pants  is  most  gine'lly  a  sign  of 
a  careful  man  w'ich  the  chances  is  he  knows 
how  much  he's  got  to  a  cent.  But  ef  his 
pants  is  kind  of  wadded-up  in  the  HI'  ham 
mock  or  flung  to  one  side  sort  of  keerless- 
lak,  you  reaches  in  an'  you  lifts  'em  out. 
But  fust  you  wants  to  be  shore  he's  sleepin7 
sound.  Them  w'ich  sleeps  on  the  back  wid 
the  mouth  open  is  the  saf  etest." 

I  says  to  him,  I  says : 

"Yes,  but  s'posen'  he  do  wake  up  an'  ketch 


36  /.  Poindexter*  Colored 

you  fumblin'  'round  insides  of  his  berth. 
Whut  then?" 

"Oh,"  he  says,  "tha's  all  purvided  fur  in 
the  ritual.  You  sez  to  him:  '  'Scuse  me, 
mister,  I  med  a  mistake.  I  thought  you 
wuz  the  gen'lman  'at  lef '  a  early  call  fur  to 
git  off  at  Harrisburg.'  But  most  in  gine'l 
he  don't  wake  up.  So  you  gits  his  pants  out 
into  the  aisle  an'  goes  th'ough  'em.  Ef  he's 
got  somewhars  'round  five  dollars  in  loose 
change  in  his  pockets,  you  teks  fifty  cents, 
no  mo'  an'  no  less,  an'  'en  you  slips  his  pants 
back  whar  you  found  'em  an'  go  'long.  Ef 
he's  got  somewhars  'round  ten  dollars  in 
chicken-feed  an'  in  ones  an'  twos,  you  asses 
ses  him  dues  of  jest  one  dollar  even.  Ef  you 
plays  yore  system  right  an'  don't  git  greedy 
they  ain't  one  chanc't  in  a  thousand  'at  he'll 
miss  the  money  w'en  he  wakes  up.  But,"  he 
says,  "they's  one  fatal  exception  to  the  rule. 
W'en  you  come  to  him,  don't  touch  a  cent 
of  his  money  no  matter  how  much  he's  car- 
ryin'  on  him.  'Cause  ef  you  do  he's  shore 
to  mek  a  hollow  the  very  fust  thing  in  the 
mornin'  an'  next  thing  you  know  you's  in 


North  Bound          37 

trouble  an'  they's  beckonin'  you  up  on  the 
cyarpet." 

I  says  to  him,  I  says : 

"Wait  a  minute,"  I  says.  "Lemme  see  ef 
I  can't  name  you  the  exception  my  own  se'f . 
The  exception,"  I  says,  "is  the  w'ite  man 
w'ich  he  carries  all  his  small  change  in  one 
of  these  yere  lil'  screwed-up  leather  purses. 
Ain't  it?" 

And  he  says  yes,  for  a  fact,  that's  so.  But 
he  says  how  come  I  is  knowing  so  much 
when  I  ain't  never  done  no  portering  my 
own  self.  And  I  says  to  him,  a  man  don't 
need  to  be  wearing  railroading  clothes  to 
know  that  any  white  man  which  totes 
around  one  of  them  little  tight  patent  purses 
knows  at  all  times,  sleeping  or  waking,  just 
exactly  how  much  money  he's  got. 

Well,  when  we  gets  to  New  York  City 
it's  morning  again.  When  we  comes  out  of 
the  depot  onto  the  street  I  takes  one  look 
round  and  I  allows  to  myself  that  these  here 
New  York  folks  certainly  is  got  powerfully 
behind  someway  with  their  hauling.  Ex 
cusing  the  time  we  had  the  cyclone  down 
home,  I  ain't  never  in  my  whole  life  seen 


38  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

so  much  truck  and  stuff  and  things  moving 
in  all  different  directions  at  the  same  time. 
And  people — who-eef  Every  which-a-way 
I  looks  all  I  can  see  is  a  multitude  of  stran 
gers.  And  I  says  to  myself  there  certainly 
must  be  a  big  convention  going  on  in  this 
town  for  the  streets  to  be  so  full  of  visiting 
delegates  and  it's  a  mighty  good  thing  for 
us  Mr.  Dallas  is  done  sent  a  telegram  on 
ahead  for  rooms  at  the  hotel,  else  we'd  have 
to  camp  out  with  some  private  family  same 
as  they  does  down  home  in  county-fair  week 
or  when  the  district  Methodist  conference 
meets. 

The  white  gentleman  that's  going  to  fix 
up  what  I  writes,  he  told  me  that  I  should 
set  down  my  first  impressions  of  New  York 
before  I  begins  to  forget  'em.  He  says 
they'll  make  good  local  color,  whatever  that 
is.  Which  I  will  now  do  so : 

The  thing  which  impresses  me  first  and 
foremost  is  a  steamboat  I  sees  on  the  river 
which  runs  alongside  New  York  City  on 
the  side  nearest  to  Paducah.  She  is  not  no 
side-wheeler  nor  yet  she  ain't  no  stern- 
wheeler,  which  all  the  steamboats  I  has  ever 


North  Bound          39 

seen  before  is  naturally  bound  to  be  one  or 
the  other.  As  near  as  I  can  tell,  she  has  not 
got  no  wheel  at  all,  side-  or  stern-.  It  would 
seem  that  what  runs  her  is  a  kind  of  a  big 
hump-back  timber  which  sticks  up  out  of 
the  middle  of  her  hurricane  deck  and  works 
up  and  down,  and  which  Mr.  Dallas  tells 
me  is  known  as  a  walking-beam.  But  it 
seems  like  to  me  that's  certainly  a  most  curi- 
ousome  way  to  run  a  steamboat  and  I  says 
to  myself  that  wonders  will  never  cease  I 

And  the  thing  which  impresses  me  next 
most  is  a  snack-stand  on  a  sidewalk  where 
they  is  selling  watermelons  by  the  slice — 
and  it  the  middle  of  August  I 

And  next  to  that  the  most  impressiveness 
is  when  I  sees  a  gang  of  black  fellows  work 
ing  on  a  levee  down  by  this  same  river,  only 
it's  mighty  flat-looking  for  a  levee.  These 
boys  is  working  there  roustabouting  freight, 
and  there  ain't  a  single  one  of  'em  which  is 
singing  as  he  goes  back  and  forth.  When  a 
river-nigger  down  our  way  don't  sing  whilst 
he's  loading,  it's  a  sign  something  is  wrong 
with  him  and  next  thing  he  knows  he  don't 
know  nothing  by  reason  of  the  mate  having 


40  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

lammed  him  across  the  head  with  a  hickory 
gad.  But  this  here  gang  is  going  along  just 
as  dumb  as  if  they  was  white.  I  wonders 
to  myself  if  thereby  they  is  hoping  to  fool 
somebody  into  believing  they  is  white? 

I  will  therefore  state  that  these  three 
things  is  the  things  which  impres.ses  me  the 
most  highly  on  my  first  arrival  in  New 
York.  I  also  takes  notice  of  the  high  build 
ings.  They  strikes  me  as  being  quite  high ; 
but  of  course  when  you  starts  in  to  build  a 
high  building,  highness  is  naturally  what 
you  aims  for,  ain't  it? 


Manhattan  Isle        41 


CHAPTER  III 

Manhattan  Isle 

THE  day  we  gets  to  New  York  is  the 
day  before  yesterday  and  we  has 
been  on  the  go  so  constant  ever  since 
and  I  has  seen  so  much  it  seems  like  my 
ideas  is  all  mixed  up  together  same  as  a 
mess  of  scrambled  eggs.  The  way  it  looks 
to  me,  the  mainest  difficulty  with  an  author, 
especially  if  he's  kind  of  new  at  the  author 
izing  business,  is  not  so  much  to  find  some 
thing  to  write  up  as  'tis  to  pick  out  the 
special  things  which  should  be  wrote  up 
and  just  leave  the  rest  be.  So  it  is  now  my 
aim  to  set  forth  the  main  points  which 
sticks  out  in  my  mind. 

Well,  first  off,  soon  as  we  gets  in,  we  goes 
to  the  hotel.  Beforehand,  Mr.  Dallas  he 
says  to  me  it's  a  quiet  hotel  up-town;  but 
when  we  arrives  at  it  I  takes  a  look  around 
and  I  says  to  myself  that  if  this  here  is  a 


42  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

quiet  hotel  they  shore  must  have  to  wear 
ear-mufflers  at  one  of  the  noisy  ones  if  they 
hopes  to  hear  themselves  think.  To  begin 
with,  she  don't  look  like  no  hotel  IVe  ever 
been  used  to.  She  rears  herself  away  up  in 
the. air,  same  as  a  church  steeple,  only  with 
windows  all  the  way  up,  and  although  the 
weather  is  pleasant  there  is  not  no  white 
folks  setting  in  chairs  under  the  front  gal 
lery.  In  the  first  place,  there  is  not  nothing 
which  looks  like  a  gallery,  excusing  it's  a 
little  glass  to-do  which  sticks  out  over  the 
pavement  at  the  main  entrance,  and  if  any 
body  was  to  try  setting  there  the  only  way 
he  could  save  his  feet  from  being  mashed 
off  by  people  trampling  on  'em  would  be 
for  him  to  have  both  legs  sawed  off  at  the 
ankles.  You'd  think  that,  being  up-town, 
the  neighborhood  would  be  kind  of  quiet, 
with  shade  trees  and  maybe  some  vacant 
lots  here  and  there,  but,  no,  sir;  it's  all  built 
up  solid  and  the  crowds  is  mighty  near  as 
thick  as  what  they  was  down  around  the 
depot  and  in  just  as  much  of  a  hurry  to  get 
to  wherever  it  is  they  is  bound  for. 

Even  with  all  the  jamming  and  all  the 


Manhattan  Isle        43 

excitement  going  on  they  must  a-been  ex 
pecting  us.  The  way  they  fusses  over  Mr. 
Dallas  is  proof  to  my  mind  that  somebody 
must  a-told  'em  in  advance  that  he  belongs 
to  the  real  quality  down  where  we  comes 
from,  and  I  certainly  is  puffed  up  with 
pride  to  be  along  with  him.  Because  if  he 
had  been  the  King  of  Europe  they  could  not 
have  showed  him  no  higher  honors  than 
what  they  does. 

No  sooner  does  we  pull  up  at  the  curb 
stone  in  front  than  a  huge  big  tall  white 
man  dressed  up  something  like  a  Knights 
of  Templar  is  opening  the  taxihack  door 
for  us  to  get  out;  and  two  or  three  white 
boys  in  militia  suits  comes  a-running  at  his 
call  and  snatches  the  baggage  away  from 
me;  and  another  member  of  the  Grand 
Lodge,  in  full  uniform,  is  standing  just  in 
side  the  front  door  to  give  us  the  low  bow  of 
welcome  as  we  walks  into  a  place  which  it 
is  all  done  up  with  marble  posts  and  with 
red  wallpaper  on  the  walls  and  gold 
chicken-coops  on  every  side  until  it  puts  me 
in  mind  of  a  country  nigger's  notion  of 
Heaven.  Over  at  the  clerk's  enclosure  three 


44  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

white  men  is  waiting  very  eager  to  receive 
us,  which  each  and  every  one  of  'em  is  wear 
ing  his  dress-up  clothes  with  a  standing  col 
lar  and  long-tailed  coat  the  same  as  though 
he  was  fixing  to  be  best  man  at  a  wedding  or 
pall-bearer  at  a  funeral  or  something  else 
extra  special  and  fancy.  For  all  it's  sum 
mer-time  there  is  not  nobody  loafing  round 
there  in  his  shirt  sleeves — I  bet  you  there 
ain't! 

One  of  the  pall-bearing  gentlemen  shoves 
the  book  round  for  Mr.  Dallas  to  write  his 
name  in  it  and  the  second  one  he  reaches  for 
the  keys  and  the  third  one  he  looks  to  see 
if  there  is  not  some  mail  or  telegrams  for 
him.  It  takes  no  lessen  a  number  than  three 
of  them  white  boys  in  the  soldier  clothes  to 
escort  Mr.  Dallas  upstairs  and  a  fourth 
one  he  grabs  up  my  valise  and  takes  me  on 
an  elevator  to  the  servants'  annex.  He  don't 
have  to  run  the  elevator  himself,  neither. 
There's  another  hand  just  to  do  that  alone 
and  all  my  white  boy  is  got  to  do  is  wrestle 
my  baggage.  It's  the  first  time  in  my  life 
ever  I  has  had  a  white  person  toting  my  be 
longings  for  me  and  it  makes  me  feel  kind 


Manhattan  Isle        45 

of  abovish  and  important.  Also,  I  takes 
notice  that  when  he  gets  to  my  room  he 
keeps  hanging  round  fussing  with  the  win 
dow  shade  and  first  one  thing  and  then  an 
other,  same  as  if  he  was  one  of  the  bell-boys 
at  the  hotel  down  home  waiting  on  a  travel 
ing  man.  Course  he's  lingering  round  till  he 
gets  his  tip.  For  quite  a  spell  I  lets  him 
linger  on  and  suffer.  I  lets  on  like  I  don't 
suspicion  what  he's  hanging  about  that-a- 
way  for.  Then  I  slips  him  two-bits  and  I 
don't  begrudge  it  to  him,  neither,  account 
of  it  giving  me  such  a  satisfactory  feeling  to 
be  high-toning  a  white  boy. 

I  says  to  myself  that  if  this  here  is  the 
annex  where  they  boards  the  transom  1  help, 
what  must  the  main  part  of  the  hotel  where 
the  regular  guests  stays  at  be  like?  Because 
my  room  certainly  is  mighty  stylish-looking 
and  full  of  general  grandeur.  But  I  ain't 
got  no  time  to  be  staying  there  and  enjoying 
the  furniture,  because  I  knows  Mr.  Dallas 
will  be  needing  me  for  to  come  and  wait  on 
him.  So  I  starts  right  out  to  find  him  and 
it  seems  like  I  travels  half  a  mile  through 

*  Note.— It  is  believed  that  Jeff  meant  "transient." 


46  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

them  hallways  before  I  does  so.  He's  got  a 
big  setting-room  all  to  himself  and  a  fash 
ionable  bedroom  and  a  special  bath  and  a 
little  special  hall  and  all. 

I  says  to  him,  I  says: 

"Mr.  Dallas,  they  shore  must  be  mon 
strous  set-up  over  havin'  you  pick  out  they 
hotel  fur  us  to  stop  at.  Look  how  the  recep 
tion  committee  turned  out  fur  you  down 
stairs  in  full  regalia?  Look  how  they  mouty 
nigh  broke  they  necks  fur  to  usher  you  in  in 
due  state?  And  now  ef  they  ain't  done  gone 
an'  'sign  you  to  the  bridal  chamber  an'  give 
you  the  upstairs  parlor  fur  yore  own  use, 
mo'  over!  It  p'intedly  indicates  to  me  'at 
they  sets  a  heap  of  store  by  you." 

He  sort  of  laughs  at  that. 

"Why,  Jeff,"  he  says,  "if  you  think  this  is 
a  fine  lay-out  you  should  see  some  of  the 
other  suites  they  have  here." 

I  says: 

"I  ain't  cravin'  to  see  'em.  I  done  seen 
sweetness  'nuff  ez  'tis.  They  su'ttinly  is 
usin'  us  noble." 

He  says  they  should  ought  to  use  us  noble 


Manhattan  Isle        47 

seeing  what  the  price  is  they  charges  us. 
He  says: 

"Do  you  know  what  I'm  paying  here  for 
the  accommodations  for  the  two  of  us?  I'm 
paying  twenty-seven  dollars  and  a  half." 

I  says  to  him  if  that's  the  case  he  better 
let  me  clear  out  of  there  right  brisk  and 
skirmish  round  and  find  me  a  respectable 
colored  boarding  house  somewheres  handy 
by,  so's  to  cut  down  the  expenses,  because,  I 
don't  care  what  anybody  says,  twenty-seven 
dollars  and  a  half  is  a  sight  of  money  to  be 
paying  out  every  week. 

He  says: 

"Twenty-seven  and  a  half  a  week — huh! 
Remember,  Jeff,  we  are  in  New  York  now 
where  everything  runs  high.  This  stands 
me  twenty-seven  and  a  half  a  day." 

I  says  to  him,  I  says: 

"Who-eel"  I  says.  "No  wonder  they  kin 
purvide  fancy  garments  fur  all  the  hands 
an'  buy  solid  gold  bars  fur  the  cage  whar 
they  keeps  them  clerks  penned  up.  Mr. 
Dallas,"  I  says,  "it  shore  is  behoovin'  on 
us  to  eat  hearty  th'ee  times  a  day  in  awder 


48  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

fur  to  git  our  money's  worth  whilst  we's 
boardin'  yere." 

He  says,  though,  for  me  not  to  overtax 
my  appetite  just  on  that  account  because  the 
eating  is  besides;  he  says  we  pays  twenty- 
seven  dollars  and  a  half  a  day  just  for  our 
rooms. 

I  says  to  him,  I  says : 

"Mr.  Dallas,  let's  git  out  of  yere  befo' 
they  begins  chargin'  us  up  fur  the  air  we 
breathes!" 

He  says : 

"You're  too  late  with  your  suggestion; 
they  do  charge  us  for  that.  The  air  is  all 
cleaned  and  cooled  before  it  comes  into 
these  rooms." 

Then  I  knows  for  sure  he  is  burlesqueing 
me.  Who's  going  to  hold  the  air  whilst 
they  cleans  it?  And  the  Good  Lord  Him 
self  can't  chill  air  to  order  in  the  middle  of 
a  August  hot  spell,  let  alone  a  lot  of  folks 
running  a  hotel — can  He?  I  asks  Mr.  Dal 
las  them  questions. 

But  he  just  laughs  and  say  to  me  that 
there's  not  no  need  to  worry,  because  he 
won't  be  staying  there  only  just  a  day  or 


Manhattan  Isle        49 

so.  He  says  Mr.  H.  C.  Raynor,  which  is 
his  principalest  friend  in  New  York  and 
the  one  which  he's  thinking  about  maybe 
going  into  business  with,  has  done  devised 
for  us  to  hire  some  ready-furnished  quarters 
still  higher  up-town.  He  says  something 
about  'em  being  Sublette  quarters  in  a  de 
partment-house;  leastwise  that's  what  I 
makes  out  of  what  he  says.  That's  news  to 
me  in  more  ways  than  one  because,  in  the 
first  place,  I  didn't  know  any  of  the  Sub- 
lettes,  which  is  a  very  plentiful  white  con 
nection  in  our  county,  had  done  moved  up 
here  to  live,  and  in  the  second  place  it 
seemed  like  to  me  there  just  naturally 
couldn't  be  no  more  up-town  to  New  York 
City  than  what  I  already  had  done  observed 
coming  from  the  train. 

He  goes  on  to  say  he  is  expecting  to  hear 
from  the  gentleman  almost  any  minute  now 
and  then  he'll  know  better  what  the  pro 
gram  is.  Almost  before  he  gets  the  words 
out  of  his  mouth  the  telephone  bell  rings 
and  sure  enough,  it  is  this  here  Mr.  Raynor 
which  is  on  the  wire,  and  it  turns  out  that 
the  place  where  we're  going  is  ready  for  us 


50  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

now  on  account  of  the  folks  which  owns  it 
having  gone  away  sooner  than  what  they 
expected,  and  the  further  tidings  is  that  we 
can  move  up  there  that  same  day,  which  we 
does — along  about  an  hour  before  supper- 
time.  I  notices  they  don't  make  near  as 
much  fuss  over  us  going  thence  from  there 
as  they  did  whilst  ushering  of  us  in.  I 
judges  the  man  what  owns  the  hotel  must 
be  feeling  kind  of  put-out  about  losing  of 
all  that  there  money  which  we'd  be  paying 
him  had  we  a-stayed  on. 

We  gets  into  a  taxihack  and  we  rides  for 
what  seems  like  to  me  it's  several  miles  and 
still  are  not  nowheres  near  the  outskirts  as 
far  as  I  can  judge,  and  'when  finally  we 
gets  to  the  new  location  I  has  another  as 
tonishment.  For  here  all  day  I've  been 
expecting  we'd  land  at  a  private  residence 
but  this  place  to  which  we've  come  at  don't 
look  like  no  private  residence  to  me.  It's 
more  like  the  hotel  we  just  left  only  more 
bigger  and  mighty  near  as  tall.  In  all  other 
respects  additional  it  certainly  is  a  grand 
establishment. 

It's  got  a  kind  of  a  private  road  so's  car- 


Manhattan  Isle        51 

riages  can  drive  in  under  shelter  off  the 
sidewalk  and  'way  back  inside  is  a  round 
piece  of  ground  all  fixed  up  with  solid 
marble  benches  and  little  cedar  trees  and 
flowerbeds,  like  a  cemetery.  I  thinks  to 
myself  that  maybe  this  here  is  the  private 
burying-plot  for  the  owner's  family;  but 
still  there  ain't  no  tombstones  in  sight  ex 
cepting  one  over  the  front  door  with  words 
cut  on  it,  and  since  I  figures  I  has  done 
showed  ignorance  enough  for  one  day,  I 
don't  ask  no  fool  questions  about  it.  The 
help  here  also  wears  fancy  clothes,  but  is 
my  own  color.  I'm  glad  of  that  because  I 
counts  now  on  having  some  black  folks  to 
get  acquainted  with  and  to  talk  to;  but  just 
as  soon  as  one  of  'em  opens  his  mouth  and 
speaks  I  knows  they  is  not  my  kind  even  if 
they  is  my  complexion.  Because  he  don't 
talk  like  no  white  folks  ever  I  knowed  and 
yet  he  don't  talk  like  none  of  the  black  folks 
does  at  home.  Still,  just  from  his  conversa 
tion  I  can  place  him.  There  was  two  just 
like  him  which  was  brought  along  once  by 
a  Northern  family  staying  in  our  town  but 
they  didn't  linger  long  amongst  us.  They 


52  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

didn't  like  the  place  and  no  more  the  place 
didn't  like  them.  They  claimed  they  was 
genuine  West  Indians,  whatever  that  is,  and 
they  made  their  brags  constant  that  they 
also  was  British  subjects.  But  Aunt  Dilsey 
Turner  she  always  said  they  looked  more 
like  objects  to  her.  Aunt  Dilsey,  which  she 
was  Judge  Priest's  cook  for  going  on  twenty 
years,  is  mighty  plain-spoken  about  folks 
and  things  which  she  don't  fancy.  And  she 
did  not  fancy  these  two  none  whatsomever. 
When  we  gets  upstairs  to  our  section  I'm 
sort  of  disappointed  in  it.  The  furniture 
ain't  new  and  shiny  like  what  I  naturally 
expected  'twould  be.  Most  of  it  is  kind  of 
old  and  dingy  and  hacked-up-looking.  The 
curtains  at  the  setting-room  windows  is  all 
frayed-like  and  mighty  near  wore  through 
in  spots.  And  the  Sublette  family  must 
a-run  out  of  money  before  they  got  round  to 
buying  the  carpets  because  they  is  not  no 
carpets  at  all  but  only  a  passel  of  old  faded 
rugs  scattered  about  the  floor  here  and 
there.  Some  of  the  chairs — the  best  com 
pany  chairs,  too — is  so  old  they  is  actually 
decrepit.  I'd  say  that  by  rights  they  be- 


Manhattan  Isle        53 

longed  in  a  second-hand  store,  or  leastways 
up  in  the  attic.  Moreover,  they  ain't  no  up 
stairs  to  our  department  nor  yet  there  is  not 
no  downstairs  nor  no  cellar,  but  instead, 
everything,  kitchen,  pantry,  and  the  rooms 
for  the  help  and  all,  runs  on  one  floor.  But 
Mr.  Dallas  he  deports  himself  like  he  is 
satisfied  and  it  ain't  for  me  to  be  finding 
fault  if  he  sees  fitten  not  to  find  any. 

Anyway,  I  is  so  busy  for  a  little  while 
flying  round  and  getting  things  unpacked 
that  I  has  no  time  to  utter  complaints. 
Pretty  soon,  though,  I  has  to  knock  off 
hanging  up  Mr.  Dallas'  suits  to  mix  a  batch 
of  cocktails  from  the  private  stock  he  has 
brought  along  with  him  in  one  of  his  trunks, 
because  this  here  Mr.  Raynor  he  telephones 
he's  bringing  some  of  his  friends  for  a  round 
of  drinks  with  Mr.  Dallas  and  then  Mr. 
Raynor  says  they'll  ride  out  in  his  motor 
car  to  a  road-house  to  get  'em  some  dinner. 
I  takes  his  message  off  the  telephone  and  I 
knows  that's  what  he  says,  surprising  though 
it  do  sound. 

That's  a  couple  of  new  ones  on  me — eat 
ing  dinner  when  it's  already  mighty  near 


54  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

past  supper-time  and  eating  it  at  a  road- 
house,  too !  I  says  to  myself  that  New  York 
City  is*  getting  to  act  more  curiouser  to  me 
every  minute  I  stays  in  it.  Because  the 
only  road-house  ever  I  knowed  of  by  that 
name  used  to  stand  alongside  the  toll-gate 
just  outside  the  corporation  limits  on  the 
Mayfield  road  and  the  old  white  man 
which  collected  the  tolls  lived  in  it,  his 
name  being  Mr.  Gip  Bayless.  But  the  gate 
is  done  torn  down  since  the  public  govern 
ment  taken  over  the  gravel  roads,  and  any 
how,  even  in  its  most  palmiest  days,  none  of 
the  quality  wouldn't  never  think  of  stopping 
there  at  that  little  old  rusty  house  for  their 
vittles.  They'd  mighty  near  as  soon  think 
of  having  a  picnic  at  the  pest-house. 

Still  and  notwithstanding,  Mr.  Dallas 
ain't  indicating  no  surprise  when  I  conveys 
to  him  what  Mr.  Raynor  says,  so  I  reflects 
to  myself  that  if  toll-gate  houses  up  here  is 
in  proportion  to  everything  else  this  one 
which  they're  aiming  to  go  to,  must  prob 
ably  be  about  the  size  of  a  county  court 
house,  with  a  slate  roof  on  it  and  doubtless 
a  cupola.  So  I  just  gets  busy  and  mingles 


Manhattan  Isle        55 

up  a  batch  of  powerful  tasty  cocktails  in  the 
shaker.  I  knows  they  is  tasty  from  a  couple 
of  private  samples  which  I  pours  off  for 
myself  out  in  the  pantry.  My  experience 
has  been  that  the  only  way  you  can  tell  is  a 
cocktail  just  right  is  to  taste  it  from  time  to 
time  as  you  goes  along. 

Immediately  soon  here  comes  Mr.  Ray- 
nor  with  his  friends  which  there  is  four  of 
them,  besides  himself — one  other  gentleman 
named  Bellows  and  three  ladies.  One  of 
the  ladies  is  older  than  the  other  two,  but 
decorated  more  younger,  if  anything,  than 
what  they  is.  Introducing  her  to  Mr.  Dal 
las,  Mr.  Raynor  says  her  name  is  Mrs.  Gay- 
lord  but  they  all  calls  her  Jerry.  She's 
pretty  near  entirely  out  of  eyebrows,  but  she 
has  got  more  than  a  bushel  of  hair  which  is 
all  kind  of  frozen-looking  and  curled  up 
tight  on  her  head.  It  don't  look  natural  to 
me  and  I  knows  it  ain't  natural  a  little  bit 
later  when  Mr.  Raynor  sets  down  on  the 
arm  of  her  chair  and  throws  his  arm  around 
her  sort  of  offhand  and  sociable-like,  and 
she  up  and  tells  him  for  Heaven's  sake  to  be 
careful  and  not  muss  her  up  because  she 


56  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

says  she's  only  just  that  day  spent  forty  dol 
lars  and  four  hours  getting  a  permanent 
wave  put  in. 

At  that  I  says  to  myself,  I  says : 
"Well,  betwixt  w'ites  an'  blacks  we  su't- 
tinly  is  mekin'  the  world  safe  fur  them 
beauty  doctors.  Niggers  down  South 
spendin'  all  the  money  they  kin  rake  an' 
scrape  togither  gittin'  the  kinkiness  tuck  out 
of  they  haids  an'  fashionable  ladies  up  yere 
spendin'  their'n  gittin'  it  put  in  1  It's  a  com 
pliment  to  one  race  or  the  other,  but  jest 
w'ich  I  ain't  purpared  to  say." 

The  other  ladies  is  named  Miss  O'Brien 
and  Miss  DeWitt  but  it's  kind  of  hard  for 
me  at  first  to  remember  which  from  which 
seeing  that  the  rest  of  the  party  scarcely 
ever  calls  'em  anything  except  Pat  and  Bill- 
Lee.  They  is  both  mighty  nice  and  friendly 
but  they  is  exclusively  different  one  from 
the  other.  Miss  Pat  she's  got  her  hair 
chopped  off  short  like  a  little  boy's  and  she 
acts  kind  of  like  a  boy  does,  too — free  and 
easy  and  laughing  a  lot  and  smoking  a  cig 
arette  so  natural  that  it's  like  as  if  she  must 
a-been  born  with  one  in  her  mouth  and  it 


Manhattan  Isle        57 

lighted.  And  yet  for  all  that,  I  seems  to 
get  the  impression  that  way  down  under 
neath  she's  kind  of  tired  of  herself  and 
everything  around  her. 

But  this  here  Miss  DeWitt  she  is  tall  and 
slender  and  kind  of  quiet.  She  must  a-been 
feeling  poorly  lately  because  her  face  is 
just  dead-white  and  her  lips  is  still  bright 
red  from  the  fever  and  when  she  sets  down 
in  a  chair  she  just  seems  to  kind  of  fall  back 
into  it,  all  limp-like.  She  ain't  saying  much 
with  her  mouth  but  she  does  a  sight  of  talk 
ing  with  her  eyes  which  is  big  and  black 
and  sort  of  lazy-like  most  of  the 
time.  She  sure  is  decked  up  with  jewelry 
like  the  Queen  of  Sheba,  too.  She's  got  big 
heavy  necklaces  round  her  neck  and  great 
long  ear-rings  in  her  ears  and  many  brace 
lets  on  both  her  arms.  She's  even  got  two 
big  bracelets  clamped  round  one  of  her 
ankles,  which  I  judges  she  didn't  have  room 
for  'em  nowheres  else  and  so  put  'em  there 
to  keep  from  losing  'em;  and  when  she 
moves  the  jewelry  all  jingles  freely  and  ad 
vertises  her.  She  walks  with  a  kind  of  a 
limber  swimming  gait,  soft  and  glidef ul ;  of 


58  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

course  it  ain't  exactly  like  swimming  and 
yet  that's  the  only  way  I  can  designate  what 
her  walking  puts  me  in  mind  of.  She  wears 
dead  black  clothes  and  that  makes  her  pale 
ness  seem  all  the  more  so. 

Right  from  the  first  jump  I  can  see  that 
Mr.  Dallas  is  drawed  to  her  powerful,  and 
I  thinks  to  myself  that  if  he's  fixing  to  favor 
this  here  languid  lady  with  his  attentions  it 
proves  he's  got  a  changeable  taste  because 
she  ain't  nothing  at  all  similar  to  Miss  Hen 
rietta  Farrell,  which  she  is  the  one  that  he's 
been  courting  these  past  few  months  down 
in  Kentucky.  In  fact,  she's  most  teetotally 
unsimilar. 

This  Mr.  Bellows  which  came  with  Mr. 
Raynor  he  don't  detain  my  attention  much. 
If  he  wasn't  there  you  wouldn't  scarcely 
miss  him;  and  when  he  is  there  you  don't 
scarcely  observe  him.  He  makes  me  think 
of  a  neat  haircut  and  nothing  else.  You 
just  appreciate  him  being  present  and  that's 
all.  But  I  studies  Mr.  Raynor  every  chance 
I  gets,  the  more  especially  because  he's  the 
one  which  is  more  or  less  responsible  for  us 
having  come  North.  He's  very  cheering  in 


Manhattan  Isle        59 

his  ways ;  laughing  and  whooping  out  loud 
at  everything  and  poking  fun  and  telling 
Mr.  Dallas  that  he  must  be  good  friends 
with  Mr.  Bellows  and  the  three  ladies  be 
cause  they  is  all  four  of  'em  his  friends. 
But  I  takes  note  that  when  he  laughs  he 
don't  laugh  with  his  eyes  but  only  with  his 
mouth,  and  when  he  sort  of  smiles  to  him 
self,  quiet-like,  it  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  man 
drawing  a  knife.  I  can't  keep  from  having 
a  kind  of  a  feeling  when  I  looks  at  him ! 

Well,  they  imbibes  up  all  the  cocktails 
that  I  has  waiting  for  them  and  a  batch 
more  which  I  makes  by  request  and  then 
they  packs  up  a  couple  of  bottles — one 
Scotch  and  one  Bourbon — to  take  along 
with  'em  for  to  refresh  themselves  with  at 
the  roadhouse  and  off  they  puts.  And  the 
last  thing  I  hears  as  they  goes  down  the  hall 
is  Mr.  Raynor  still  laughing  from  off  the 
top  of  his  palates  and  the  sickly  one,  Miss 
DeWitt's  necklaces  and  things  all  jingling 
like  a  road-gang.  Mr.  Dallas  he  calls  back 
to  me  from  the  elevator  that  I  needn't  wait 
up  for  him  because  it  is  liable  to  be  pretty 
late  when  he  gets  in.  But  it's  a  good  thing  I 


60  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

does  wait  up,  dozing  off  and  on  between 
times,  because  when  he  arrives  back,  along 
about  half  past  three  in  the  morning,  he  cer 
tainly  does  need  my  assistance  getting  his 
clothes  off  of  him.  Not  since  Dryness  come 
in  has  I  seen  a  young  white  gentleman  more 
thoroughly  overtaken  than  what  he  is.  And 
we  got  a-plenty  vigorous  drinkers  down  our 
way,  too !  And  always  did  have  I 

So  then  I  goes  to  bed  myself  and  that's 
the  end  of  our  first  day.  And  the  follow 
ing  day,  which  it  was  yesterday,  is  the  day 
I  gets  lost. 

Which  I  will  tell  about  thai,  next. 


Harlem  Heights       61 


CHAPTER  IV 

Harlem  Heights 

WELL,  in  the  morning  I  arranges  a 
snack  of  nuturious  breakfast  on  a 
tray  and  takes  it  in  to  Mr.  Dallas. 
But  he  ain't  craving  nothing  solid  to  eat. 
He's  just  craving  to  lay  still  and  favor  his 
headache.  Soon  as  he  opens  his  eyes  he 
starts  in  groaning  like  he's  done  got  far  be 
hind  with  his  groaning  and  is  striving  for 
to  catch  up.  And  I  knows  he  must  a-felt 
powerful  good  last  night  to  be  feeling  so 
bad  this  morning.  Misery  may  love  com 
pany,  as  some  say  it  do,  but  I  takes  notice 
that  very  often  she  don't  arrive  till  after  the 
company  is  gone. 

He  tells  me  to  take  them  vittles  out  of  his 
sight  and  fix  him  up  about  a  gallon  of  good 
cold  ice-water  and  set  it  alongside  his  bed 
in  easy  reach  and  then  I  can  leave  him  be 
where  he  is  and  go  on  out  for  awhile  and 


62  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

seek  amusement  looking  at  the  sights  and 
scenes  of  New  York  City.  But  when  I  gets 
to  the  door  he  calls  out  to  me  I  better  make 
it  two  gallons.  Which  I  knows  by  that  he 
ain't  so  far  gone  but  what  he  still  can  joke. 

So  I  goes  on  out,  just  strolling  along  in  a 
general  direction,  a-looking  at  this  and  ad 
miring  of  that;  and  there  certainly  is  a  heap 
for  to  see  and  for  to  admire.  The  houses  is 
so  tall  it  seems  like  the  sky  is  resting  almost 
on  the  tops  of  'em  and  it's  mighty  near  the 
bluest  sky  and  the  clearest  ever  I  seen.  It 
makes  you  want  to  get  up  there  and  fly 
round  in  it.  But  down  below  in  the  street 
there  ain't  so  very  much  brightness  by  rea 
sons  of  the  buildings  being  so  high  they 
cuts  off  the  daylight  somewhat.  It's  like 
walking  through  a  hollow  betwixt  steep 
hills. 

People  is  stirring  around  every  which- 
a-way,  both  on  foot  and  in  automobiles; 
and  most  of  the  automobiles  is  all  shined 
up  nice  and  clean  like  as  if  the  owners  was 
going  to  take  part  in  an  automobile  parade 
in  connection  with  the  convention.  Every 
body  is  extensively  well-dressed,  too,  but 


Harlem  Heights       63 

most  all  is  wearing  a  kind  of  a  brooding 
look  like  they  had  family  troubles  at  home 
or  something  else  to  pester  'em.  And  they 
ain't  stopping  one  another  when  they  meets 
and  saying  ain't  it  a  lovely  morning  and 
passing  the  time  of  day,  like  we  does  down 
home.  Even  some  of  them  which  comes 
out  of  the  same  house  together  just  goes 
bulging  on  without  a  word  to  nobody,  and 
I  remarks  to  myself  that  a  lot  of  the  neigh 
bors  in  this  district  must  a-had  a  falling- 
out  amongst  themselves  and  quit  speaking. 
The  children  on  the  sidewalk  ain't  playing 
much  together,  neither.  Either  they  plays 
off  by  themselves  or  they  just  walks  along 
with  their  keepers. 

And  there  is  almost  as  many  dogs  as  there 
is  children,  mostly  small,  fool-looking  dogs; 
and  the  dogs  is  all  got  keepers,  too,  drag 
ging  'em  on  chains  and  jerking  'em  up 
sharp  when  they  tries  to  linger  and  smell 
round  for  strange  smells  and  confab  with 
passing  dogs.  Near  as  I  can  make  out,  the 
dogs  here  ain't  allowed  to  behave  like  reg 
ulation  dogs,  and  the  children  mainly  tries 
to  act  like  as  if  they  was  already  growed- 


64  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

up,  and  the  growed-up  ones  has  caught  the 
prevailing  glumness  disease  and  I  is  ap 
proximately  almost  the  only  person  in  sight 
that's  getting  much  enjoyment  out  of  being 
in  New  York. 

All  of  a  sudden  I  hears  the  dad-blame- 
dest  blinrblamming  behind  me.  I  turns 
round  quick  and  here  comes  the  New  York 
City  paid  fire  department  going  to  a  fire. 
The  biggest  fire-engine  ever  I  sees  goes 
scooting  by,  tearing  the  road  wide  open  and 
making  a  most  awful  racket.  Right  be 
hind  comes  the  hook-and-ladder  wagon 
with  the  firemen  hanging  onto  both  sides 
of  it,  trying  to  stick  fast  and  put  their  rub 
ber  coats  on  at  the  same  time ;  and  right  be 
hind  it  comes  a  big  red  automobile,  lick- 
etty-spllt.  Setting  up  alongside  the  driver 
of  it  is  a  gentleman  in  blue  clothes  and 
brass  buttons,  which  he's  got  a  big  cigar 
clamped  betwixt  his  teeth  and  looks  highly 
important.  But  he  ain't  wearing  a  flannel 
shirt  open  at  the  throat,  but  has  got  his 
coat  on  and  it  buttoned  up,  so  I  assumes  it 
can't  be  the  chief  of  the  department  but 
probably  must  be  the  mayor.  And  in  les- 


Harlem  Heights       65 

sen  no  time  they  all  has  swung  off  into  a 
side  street,  two  squares  away,  with  me  tak 
ing  out  after  'em  down  the  middle  of  the 
street  fast  as  I  can  travel. 

Now,  every  town  where  I've  been  at 
heretofore  to  this,  when  the  fire-bell  rings 
everybody  drops  whatever  they  is  doing 
and  goes  to  the  fire.  Elsewhere  from  New 
York,  enjoying  fires  is  one  of  the  main 
pleasures  of  people;  but  soon  I  is  surprised 
to  see  that  Fm  pretty  near  the  only  person 
which  is  trailing  along  after  the  depart 
ment.  Whilst  I'm  still  wondering  over 
this  circumstance,  but  still  running  also,  a 
police  grabs  me  by  the  arm  and  asks  me 
where  is  I  going  in  such  a  big  hurry? 

I  tells  him  I  is  going  to  the  fire.  And  he 
says  to  me  that  I  might  as  well  slow  up 
and  save  my  breath  because  it's  liable  to  be 
quite  a  long  trip  for  me.  I  asks  him  how 
come,  and  he  says  the  fire  is  probably  three 
or  four  miles  from  here  and  maybe  even 
considerable  further  than  that.  And  I 
says  to  him,  that  must  make  it  mighty  in 
convenient  for  all  concerned,  having  the 
fires  so  far  away  from  the  engine-house. 


66  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

At  that  he  sort  of  chuckles  and  tells  me  to 
be  on  my  way,  but  to  keep  my  eyes  open 
,and  not  let  the  cows  nibble  me.  Well,  as 
I  says  to  myself  going  away  from  him,  I 
may  be  green,  but  I  is  getting  some  enjoy 
ment  out  of  being  here  which  is  more'n  I 
can  say  for  some  folks  round  these  parts, 
judging  by  what  I  has  seen  up  to  this  here 
present  moment. 

So  I  meanders  along,  looking  at  this  and 
that,  and  turning  corners  every  once  in 
awhile;  and  after  a  spell  it  comes  to  me 
that  I  has  meandered  myself  into  an  ex 
ceedingly  different  neighborhood  from  the 
one  I  started  out  from.  The  houses  is  not 
so  tall  and  is  more  or  less  rusty-looking; 
and  there's  a  set  of  railroad  tracks  running 
through,  built  up  on  a  high  trestle;  and 
whilst  there  has  been  a  falling-off  in  dogs 
there  has  been  an  ample  increase  in  chil 
dren  ;  the  place  just  swarms  with  'em.  These 
here  children  is  running  loose  all  over  the 
sidewalks  and  out  in  the  streets,  too,  but  it 
seems  like  to  me  they  spends  more  time 
quarreling  than  what  they  does  playing. 
Or  maybe  it  sounds  like  quarreling  because 


Harlem  Heights       67 

they  has  to  hollow  so  loud  on  account  of  all 
the  noises  occurring  round  'em. 

I  decides  to  go  back,  but  the  trouble  is 
I  don't  rightly  know  which  is  the  right  way 
to  turn.  I've  been  sashaying  about  so, 
first  to  the  right  and  then  to  the  left,  that 
I  ain't  got  no  more  sense  of  direction  than 
one  of  these  here  patent  egg-beaters.  So 
I  rambles  on,  getting  more  and  more  be- 
wilded-like  all  the  time,  till  I  comes  to 
another  police  and  I  walks  up  to  him  and 
states  my  perdicterment  to  him  very  polite 
and  tells  him  I  needs  help  getting  back  to 
where  I  belongs  at. 

He  looks  at  me  very  strict,  like  he  can't 
make  up  his  mind  whether  he'd  better  run 
me  in  for  vagromcy  or  let  me  go,  and  then 
he  says,  kind  of  short: 

"Make  it  snappy,  then.  Where  d'ye 
live?" 

I  tells  him  I  has  done  forgot  the  name  of 
the  street,  if  indeed  I  ever  heard  it,  but 
from  the  looks  of  it  I  judges  it  must  be  the 
chief  resident  street  where  the  best  families 
resides.  I  tells  him  we  has  just  moved 
in  there,  Mr.  Dallas  Pulliam  and  me,  and 


68  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

has  started  up  housekeeping  in  the  depart 
ment-house  which  stands  on  the  principal 
corner.  I  tells  him  it's  the  department- 
house  where  the  inmates  all  lives  in  layers, 
one  upon  top  of  the  other,  like  martins  in 
a  martin  box. 

"You  mean  apartment-house,"  he  says; 
"department  store,  but  apartment-house. 
Well,  what's  the  name  of  this  apartment- 
house,  then,  if  you  can't  remember  the 
street?" 

That  makes  me  scratch  under  my  hat, 
too.  'Cause  I  pointedly  doesn't  know  that 
neither. 

"Nummine  the  name,  boss,"  I  says, 
"jest  you,  please  suh,  tell  me  whar'bouts  is 
the  leadin'  apartment-house  of  this  yere 
city  of  Noo  Yawk;  that'll  be  it— the  lead- 
in'est  one.  'Cause  Mr.  Dallas  Pulliam  he 
is  accustom'  to  the  best  whar'ever  he  go." 

But  he  only  acts  like  he's  getting  more 
and  more  impatient  with  me. 

"Describe  it,"  he  says,  "describe  it! 
There's  one  chance  in  a  thousand  that 
might  help.  What  does  it  look  like?" 

So  I  tells  him  what  it  looks  like — how 


Harlem  Heights       69 

a  little  private  road  winds  in  and  circles 
round  a  little  place  which  is  like  a  family- 
burying-ground,  and  about  the  hands 
downstairs  at  the  front  door  all  being  from 
West  Indiana,  and  about  there  being  two 
elevators  for  the  residenters  and  one  more 
for  the  help,  and  about  us  having  took  over 
the  Sublette  family's  outfit  and  all. 

"No  use,"  he  says,  when  I  gets  through, 
"that  sounds  just  like  most  of  the  expensive 
ones."  He  starts  walking  off  like  he  has 
done  lost  all  interest  in  my  case.  Then  he 
calls  back  to  me  over  his  shoulder : 

"I'll  tell  you  what's  the  matter  with 
you,"  he  says;  "you're  lost." 

"Yas,  suh,"  I  says;  "thanky,  suh — tha's 
whut  I  been  suspicionin'  my  own  se'f,"  I 
says,  "but  I'm  much  oblige'  you  agrees  wid 


me." 


Still,  that  ain't  helping  much,  to  find  out 
this  here  police  thinks  the  same  way  I  does 
about  it.  Whilst  I  is  lingering  there  won 
dering  what  I  better  do  next,  if  anything, 
I  sees  a  street-car  go  scooting  by  up  at  the 
next  crossing,  and  I  gets  an  idea.  If  street 
cars  in  New  York  is  anything  like  they  is  at 


70  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

home,  sooner  or  later  they  all  turns  into 
the  main  street  and  runs  either  past  the 
City  Hall  or  to  the  Union  Depot.  So  I 
allows  to  myself  that  I'll  go  on  up  yonder 
and  climb  aboard  the  next  car  which  comes 
along  and  stay  on  her,  no  matter  how  far 
She  goes,  till  she  swings  back  off  the  branch 
onto  the  trunk-line,  and  I'll  watch  out  then, 
and  when  she  goes  past  our  corner  I'll  drop 
off.  Doing  it  that-a-way  I  figures  that 
sooner  or  later  I'm  bound  to  fetch  up  back 
home  again. 

Anyhow,  the  scheme  is  worth  trying, 
'specially  as  I  can't  seem  to  think  of  no  bet 
ter  one.  So  I  accordingly  does  so. 

But  I  ain't  staying  on  that  car  so  very 
long;  not  more  than  a  mile  at  the  most. 
The  reason  I  gets  off  her  so  soon  is  this: 
All  at  once  I  observes  that  I  is  skirting 
through  a  district  which  is  practically  ex 
clusively  all  colored.  On  every  side  I 
sees  nothing  but  colored  folks,  both  big  and 
little.  Seemingly,  everything  in  oight  is 
organized  by  and  for  my  race — colored 
barber-shops,  colored  undertaking  parlors, 
colored  dentists'  offces,  colored  doctors' 


Harlem  Heights       71 

offices.  On  one  corner  there  is  even  a 
colored  vaudeville  theatre.  And  out  in 
the  middle  of  the  streets  stands  a  colored 
police.  Excusing  that  the  houses  is  dif 
ferent  and  the  streets  is  wider,  it's  mighty 
near  the  same  as  being  on  Plunkett's  Hill 
of  a  Saturday  evening.  I  almost  expects 
to  see  that  there  Aesop  Loving  loafing 
along  all  dressed  up  fit  to  kill;  or  maybe 
Red  Hoss  Shackleford  setting  in  a  door 
way  following  after  his  regular  business  of 
resting,  or  old  Pappy  Exall,  the  pastor  of 
Zion  Chapel,  rambling  by,  with  that  big 
stomach  of  his'n  sticking  out  in  front  of 
him  like  two  gallons  of  chitterlings 
wrapped  up  in  a  black  gunny-sack.  It 
certainly  does  fill  me  with  the  homesick 
ness  longings  1 

And  then  a  big  black  man  on  the  pave 
ment  opens  his  mouth  wide,  nigger-like, 
and  laughs  at  something  till  you  can  hear 
him  half-a-mile,  pretty  near  it;  which  it  is 
the  first  sure-enough  laugh  I  has  heard 
since  I  hit  New  York.  And  right  on  top 
of  that  I  catches  the  smell  of  fat  meat  fry 
ing  somewheres. 


72  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

I  just  naturally  can't  stand  it  no  longer. 
Anyhow,  if  I'm  predestinated  to  be  lost  in 
New  York  City  it's  better  I  should  be  lost 
amongst  my  own  kind,  which  talks  my  na 
tive  language,  rather  than  amongst  plumb 
strangers.  I  give  the  conductor  the  high 
sign  and  I  says  to  him,  I  says: 

"Cap'n,  lemme  off,  befo'  I  jumps  off!" 

So  he  rings  the  signalling  bell  and  she 
stops  and  lets  me  off.  And  verily,  before 
I  has  went  hardly  any  distance  at  all,  some 
body  hails  me.  I  is  wandering  along, 
sort  of  miscellaneous,  looking  in  the  store 
windows  and  up  at  the  tops  of  the  build 
ings,  when  a  brown-complected  man  steps 
up  to  me  and  sticks  out  his  hand  and  he 
says: 

"Hello  thar',  Alfred  Ricketts !— whut 
you  doin'  so  fur  'way  frum  ole  Lynch- 
burg?" 

I  says  to  him  he  must  a-made  a  mistake. 
And  he  says: 

"Go  on  'way,  boy,  an'  quit  yore  foolin'I 
This  is  bound  to  be  Alfred  Ricketts  'at  I 
ustcr  know  down  in  Lynchburg,  Furginia, 


Harlem  Heights       73 

Leas'wise,  ef  'tain't  him  it's  his  duplicate 
twin  brother." 

I  tells  him  no,  my  name  ain't  Alfred 
Ricketts — it's  Jeff  Poindexter  from  Padu- 
cah,  and  I  ain't  never  been  in  no  place 
called  Lynchburg  in  my  whole  life  as  I 
knows  of. 

He  looks  at  me  a  minute  in  a  kind  of  an 
onbelieving  way  and  then  he  says  he  begs 
my  pardon,  but  his  excuse  is  that  I'm  the 
exact  spit-and-image  of  this  here  Alfred 
Ricketts,  which  he  says  he's  done  played 
with  him  many's  the  time,  when  they  was 
both  boys  together.  He  says  he  ain't  never 
in  all  his  born  days  seen  two  fellows  which 
they  wasn't  no  kin  to  each  other  and  yet 
looked  so  much  similar  as  him  and  me 
does.  He  says  the  way  we  favors  each 
other  is  absolutely  unanimous.  He  asks 
me  to  tell  him  again  what  my  name  is  and 
I  does  so,  and  then  he  says  to  me : 

"Whar 'bouts  you  say  you  hails  frum?" 

I  says: 

"Paducah — tha's  whar." 

He  shakes  his  head  kind  of  puzzled. 

"Paducah?"    he    says.     "I    ain't   never 


74  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

beared  tell  of  it.  Whar  is  it — Tennessee 
or  Arkansaw?" 

I  pities  his  ignorance,  but  I  tells  him 
where  Paducah  is  located  at.  It  seems 
like  the  very  sound  of  the  name  detains  his 
curiosity.  He  just  shoots  the  inquiring 
questions  at  me.  He  wants  to  know  how 
big  is  Paducah  and  what  is  its  main  busi 
ness,  and  what  river  is  it  on  or  close  to, 
and  what  railroads  run  in  there,  and  a  lot 
more  things.  So,  seeing  he's  a  seeker  after 
truth,  I  pumps  him  full.  I  tells  him  we 
not  only  is  got  one  river  at  Paducah,  we  is 
got  two;  and  I  tells  him  about  what  rail 
roads  we've  got  running  in;  and  about  the 
big  high  water  of  1913,  and  about  the 
night-rider  troubles  some  years  before  that. 
I  tells  him  a  heap  else  besides;  mainly  re 
cent  doings,  such  as  Judge  Priest  having 
retired,  and  the  Illinois  Central  having 
built  up  their  shops  to  double  size.  Then 
he  excuses  himself  some  more  and  steps 
away  pretty  brisk,  and  goes  into  a  colored 
billiard  parlor,  and  I  continues  on  my 
lonesome  way. 

But  inside  of  five  minutes  another  fellow 


Harlem  Heights       75 

speaks  to  me,  and  by  my  own  entitled  name, 
too.  Only,  this  one  is  a  kind  of  a  pale  tal 
low-color  with  a  lot  of  gold  teeth  showing 
and  very  sporty  dressed.  He  comes  bust 
ing  up. to  me  like  he's  overjoyed  to  see  me, 
and  says: 

"Hello,  Jeff  Poindexter — w'en  did  you 
git  yere?  You  shore  is  a  sight  fur  the  sore 
eyes!  How  you  leave  ever'body  down  in 
ole  Paduke?  An'  how  does  yore  own 
copperosity  seem  to  sagashuate?" 

All  the  time  he's  saying  this  he's  clamp 
ing  my  hand  very  affectionate,  like  I  was 
his  long-lost  brother  or  something.  I  tells 
him  his  manner  is  familiar,  but  that  I  can't 
place  him.  He  acts  surprised  at  that — 
surprised  and  sort  of  hurt-like.  He  asks 
me  don't  I  remember  George  Harris  from 
down  home?  I  tells  him  the  onlyest 
George  Harris  of  color  I  remembers  is  an 
old  man  which  he  does  janiting  for  the 
First  National  Bank.  And  he  speaks  up 
very  prompt  and  says  that's  his  uncle  which 
he  is  named  for  him  and  used  to  live  with 
him  out  by  the  Illinois  Central  shops.  He 
says  he  really  don't  blame  me  so  much  for 


76  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

not  placing  him,  because  he  left  there  it's 
going  on  eight  or  nine  years  ago  just  before 
the  big  high  water;  but  he  claims  he  used 
to  meet  me  frequent,  and  says  I  ain't 
changed  much  from  the  time  when  I  used 
to  be  working  for  Judge  Priest.  He  says 
he's  sure  he'd  a-recognized  me  if  he'd  a- 
met  up  with  me  in  China,  let  alone  it's  New 
York.  He  says  he's  been  living  up  North 
for  quite  a  spell  now,  and  is  chief  owner 
of  a  pants-pressing  emporium  down  the 
street  a  piece,  and  has  a  fine  trade  and  is 
doing  well.  And  then,  before  I  can  get  a 
stray  word  in  edgeways,  he  goes  on  to  speak 
of  several  important  things  which  has  hap 
pened  down  home  of  late.  I  breaks  in  and 
asks  him  how  come  he  keeps  such  close 
track  of  events  'way  down  there  seeing  he's 
been  away  so  long;  and  he  says  he's  just 
naturally  so  dog-gone  fond  of  that  town  he 
subscribes  regular  for  one  of  the  local 
papers  and  reads  it  faithful  and  hence  that's 
how  come  he  keeps  up  so  well  with  what's 
going  on. 

"W'ich,  speakin'  of  papers,  'minds  me 
of  somethin',"  he  says;  "it  'minds  me  'at 


Harlem  Heights       77 

on  'count  of  readin'  the  papers  so  stiddy  I 
has  a  sweet  streak  of  luck  comin'  to  me  this 
ver'  day.  I'd  lak  to  tell  you  'bout  it,  Poin- 
dexter?" 

"Perceed,"  I  says,  "perceed." 
"I'm  goin'  to,"  he  says,  "but  s'posen'  fust 
we  gits  in  off  this  yere  street  an'  sets  down 
somewhars  whar  we  kin  be  comfor'able 
an'  not  be  interrupted.  Trouble  wid  me 
is,"  he  says,  "I  knows  so  dad-blame  many 
people  round  yere,  bein'  prominent  in  busi 
ness  the  way  I  is,  'at  ef  I  stands  still  more'n 
a  minute  somebody  is  shore  to  be  comin' 
up  an'  slappin'  me  on  the  back.  Does  you 
feel  lak  a  light  snack,  Poindexter?" 

Well,  it's  getting  to  be  close  onto  eleven 
o'clock  now  and  I  has  not  et  nothing  since 
breakfast  except  fifteen  cents'  worth  of  pea 
nut  candy,  so  I  tells  him  I  is  agreeable. 
We  goes  into  a  restaurant  run  by,  for  and 
with  colored,  and  we  sets  down  by  ourselves 
off  at  a  little  table  and  he  insists  that  he's 
doing  the  paying-for  on  account  of  my  be 
ing  a  boy  from  his  old  home-town,  and  he 
says  for  me  to  go  the  limit,  ordering.  So 
I  calls  for  a  bone  sirloin  and  some  fried 


78  /.  Poindexter^  Colored 

potatoes  and  coffee  and  a  mess  of  hot  bis 
cuits  and  a  piece  of  mushmelon  and  one 
thing  and  another.  It  seems  like,  though, 
he  ain't  got  much  appetite  himself.  He 
takes  just  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  whilst  I  is 
eating  all  of  that  provender  of  his  generous 
providing,  he  tells  me  about  this  here 
streak  of  luck  which  has  come  his  way. 

First  off,  he  begins  by  asking  me  has  I 
heard  tell  about  the  Colored  Arabian 
Prince,  which  he  is  now  staying  in  New 
York?  I  says  no.  He  says  then  I  will 
be  hearing  about  him  if  I  sojourns  long,  be 
cause  the  Colored  Arabian  Prince  is  the 
talk  of  one  and  all.  He's  stopping  at  the 
Palace  Afro-American  Hotel,  and  he's  got 
more  money  than  what  he  can  spend,  and 
he's  going  round  the  world  studying  how 
black  folks  lives  in  every  clime,  and  he's 
got  thousands  and  thousands  of  dollars 
worth  of  jewelry  which  he  wears  constant. 
But  the  piece  of  jewelry  which  he  prizes 
as  the  most  precious  of  all,  he  lost  it  only 
yesterday;  which  it  is  a  solid  gold  pin 
shaped  like  a  four-leaf  clover  with  a 
genuine  real  Arabian  ruby  set  in  the  middle 


Harlem  Heights       79 

of  it.  This  here  gold-tooth  boy  he  tells 
me  this  while  I  is  sauntering  through  the 
steak.  And  I  can  tell  from  the  way  he 
says  it  that  he's  leading  up  to  something. 

"Yas-suh,"  he  says,  "yistiddy  is  w'en  he 
lose  it.  An'  this  mornin'  he's  got  a  adver 
tisement  notice  inserted  in  the  cullid 
newspapers  sayin'  ez  how  he  stan'  ready 
an'  willin'  to  pay  fifty  dollars  fur  its  re 
turn  to  the  hotel  whar  he  is  stoppin'  at,  an' 
no  questions  asted.  An'  yere  'bout  half- 
an-hour  befo'  I  runs  into  you,  I'm  walkin' 
'long  the  street  right  up  yere  a  lil'  ways,  an' 
I  sees  somethin'  shiny  layin'  in  the  gutter 
an'  I  stoops  down  an'  picks  it  up,  an'  ef  it 
ain't  the  Cullid  Arabian  Prince's  four-leaf 
clover  pin,  dog-gone  me!  An'  yere  it  is, 
safe  an'  sound." 

And  with  that  he  reach  in  his  pocket  and 
pull  it  out  and  let  me  look  at  it  a  brief 
second.  And  I  says  to  him  that  I  don't  be 
grudge  him  his  good  luck  none,  only  I 
wishes  it  might  a-been  me  which  had  found 
it,  because  fifty  dollars  would  come  in 
mighty  handy.  Then  I  says  to  him,  I  says : 

"I  s'pose  you  is  now  on  yore  way  to  hand 


80  /.  PoindexteT)  Colored 

him  back  his  belongin'  an'  claim  the  re 
ward?" 

But  he  shakes  his  head  kind  of  dubi- 
ousome. 

"I  tell  you  how  'tis,  Poindexter,"  he  says. 
"To  begin  wid,  an'  speakin'  in  confidences 
ez  one  ole-time  f  rien'  to  'nother,  I  prob'ly  is 
the  onlyest  pusson  in  this  yere  city  of  Noo 
Yawk  w'ich  the  Cullid  Arabian  Prince 
might  mek  trouble  fur  me  ef  I  wuz  the  one 
w'ich  come  bringin'  him  back  his  lost  pin. 
Ever  since  he's  been  yere  he's  been  sendin' 
his  clothes  over  to  my  'stablishment,  w'ich 
it  is  right  round  the  corner  f  rum  the  Palace 
Afro-American  Hotel,  to  be  pressed.  An' 
ef  I  should  turn  up  now  wid  this  yere  pin 
he'd  most  likely  ez  not  claim  'at  I  found  it 
stuck  in  one  of  his  coat  lapels  an'  taken  it 
out  an'  kep'  it.  An'  the  chances  is  he'd  not 
only  refuse  fur  to  pay  over  the  reward,  but 
furthermo'  might  raise  a  rookus  an'  cast  a 
shadder  on  my  good  name  w'ich  it  su'ttinly 
would  hurt  my  perfessional  reppitation 
fur  a  Cullid  Arabian  Prince  to  be  low- 
ratin'  me  at-a-way.  He's  lak  so  many 
wealthy  pussons  is — he's  suspicious  in  his 


Harlem  Heights       81 

mind.  So  I  don't  keer  to  take  no  chances, 
much  ez  I  craves  to  feel  them  fifty  dollars 
warmin'  in  the  pa'm  of  my  hand.  But  ef 
a  pusson  w'ich  wuz  a  puffec'  stranger  to 
him  wuz  to  fetch  the  pin  in  an'  say  he  wuz 
walkin'  'long  an'  seen  it  shinin'  an'  picked 
it  up,  he'd  jes'  hand  the  reward  right  over 
widout  a  mumblin'  word." 

"Yas,"  I  says,  "ma's  so,  I  reckin." 
"  'Tain't  no  manner  of  doubt  but  whut 
hit's  so,"  he  says.  "Poindexter,"  he  says, 
brisker-like,  "I  got  an  idee — it  jest  this 
yere  secont  come  to  me :  Whut's  the  reason 
w'y  you  can't  be  the  ordained  stranger 
w'ich  teks  the  pin  back  to  him?  You  does 
so  an'  I'll  low  you  ten  dollars  out  of  the 
fifty  fur  yore  time  an'  trouble.  Whut 
say?" 

I  studies  a  minute  and  then  I  says  I  is 
sociable  to  the  notion.  He  says  he'll  go 
along  with  me  and  point  out  to  me  the  hotel 
where  the  Colored  Arabian  Prince  is  stop 
ping  at  and  then  tarry  outside  until  I  gets 
back  to  him  with  the  money.  I  says  I'll  go 
just  as  soon  as  I  has  et  another  piece  of 
mushmelon,  which  the  first  piece  certainly 


82  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

was  very  tasty.  So  he  waits  until  I  has 
done  so  and  then  he  pays  the  check,  which 
comes  to  one-eighty  for  me  and  ten  cents 
for  him,  and  we  gets  up  to  start  forth.  But 
just  as  we  gets  to  the  door,  going  out,  he 
takes  a  look  at  a  clock  on  the  wall  and  he 
says: 

"I  can't  go  'long  wid  you — you'll  have 
to  go  by  yo'se'f." 

I  says: 

"Whyfore  you  can't  go?" 

He  says: 

"I  jes'  this  minute  remembers  'at  I  got 
to  ketch  the  'leven-forty-two  fur  Hartford, 
Connecticut,  whar*I  is  gittin'  ready  to  open 
up  a  branch  'stablishment — tha's  whyfore. 
I  been  enjoyin'  talkin'  wid  somebody  frum 
my  own  dear  state  so  much  'at  I  lets  the 
time  slip  by  unbeknownst  an'  now  I  jes' 
about  kin  git  abo'de  the  train  at  the  up-town 
station  ef  I  hurries."  He  scratches  his 
head.  "Lemme  see,"  he  says,  "whut-all  is 
we  goin'  do  'bout  'at  now?"  Then  it  seems 
like  he  scratches  an  idea  loose.  "I  got  it," 
he  says.  "Mainly  on  'count  of  my  bein'  in 
sech  a  rush,  an'  you  bein'  frum  my  home- 


Harlem  Heights        83 

town,  I'm  goin'  mek  you  a  heap  sweeter 
proposition  'en  de  one  w'ich  I  already  has 
made.  I'm  goin'  halfen  this  yere  reward 
wid  you;  'at's  whut  I'm  goin'  do.  Yere's 
the  plan :  You  jes'  hands  me  over  twenty- 
five  dollars  now  fur  my  sheer  an'  'en  you 
keeps  the  ontire  fifty  w'ich  he'll  pay  you. 
See?  I  knows  I  is  a  fool  to  be  doin'  it,  but 
gittin'  to  Hartford  on  time  today  '11  mean 
a  heap  mo'  to  me  in  the  long  run  'en  whut 
de  difFunce  in  the  money  would.  How 
'bout  it,  ole  boy?" 

I  says  to  him  that  it  listens  all  right  to 
me,  and  I'd  give  him  the  twenty-five  in  a 
minute,  only  I  ain't  got  it  with  me.  When 
I  says  that  his  face  falls  so  far  his  under- 
jaw  mighty  near  grazes  the  ground,  and 
then  he  says: 

"Well,  how  much  is  you  got?  Is  you  got 
twenty — or  even  fifteen?" 

I  says  I  ain't  got  nothing  on  me  in  the 
way  of  ready  cash,  only  carfare.  But  I 
says  I  is  got  something  on  me  that's  worth 
a  heap  more  than  twenty-five  dollars. 

And  he  says: 

"Whut  is  it?" 


84  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

I  says: 

"It's  this  yere  solid  gold  watch,"  I  says. 
And  I  hauls  it  out  and  waves  it  before  his 
eyes.  "It's  wuth  fully  forty  dollars,"  I 
says,  "but  I  ain't  needin'  it  on  'count  of 
havin'  a  still  mo'  handsomer  one  in  my 
trunk,  w'ich  it  wuz  give  to  me  by  a  com 
mittee  of  the  w'ite  folks  two  yeahs  ago  fur 
savin'  a  lil'  w'ite  boy  from  drowndin'  off 
the  upper  wharf -boat.  You  tek  the  watch 
an'  give  me,  say  ten  dollars  boot,"  I  says, 
"an'  I'll  collect  the  reward  an'  thar'by  both 
of  us  '11  be  mekin'  money,"  I  says;  "  'cause 
you  kin  sell  the  watch  anywhars  fur  not 
lessen  forty  dollars.  I  done  been  offered 
'at  fur  it  befo'  now." 

He  studies  a  minute  and  then  he  says  that 
whilst  he  ain't  doubting  my  word  about  the 
watch  being  worth  that  much  money,  still, 
business  is  business,  and  before  he  consents 
we'll  have  to  take  it  to  a  jewelry-store  half- 
a-square  down  the  street  and  have  it  valued. 

I  says  to  him,  I  says: 

"Tha's  suitable  to  me,  but,"  I  says,  "I 
thought  you  wuz  in  a  sweat  to  ketch  a 
train?" 


Harlem  Heights       85 

"I'll  tek  the  time,"  he  says.  "I  kin  hurry 
an'  mek  it.  Come  to  think  of  it,"  he  says, 
"  'at  train  don't  leave  the  up-town  station 
'twell  'leven-fifty-fo'.  'Leven-forty-two  is 
w'en  she  leaves  frum  down-town." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  I  says,  "  'cause 
w'en  the  jewelry-store  man  has  got  th'ough 
'zaminin'  my  watch  we  kin  ast  him  to  look 
at  the  pin,  too,  an'  tell  us  ef  it's  the  genu- 
wine  article.  It  mout  possibly  be,"  I  says, 
"  'at  they  wuz  two  of  these  yere  clover-leaf 
pins  floatin'  round  loose  an'  one  of  'em  a 
imitation.  By  havin'  it  'zamined  'long  wid 
my  watch,  we  both  plays  safe." 

He  stops  right  dead  in  his  tracks. 

"Look  yere,  Poindexter,"  he  says, 
"whut's  the  use  of  all  'is  yere  projectin' 
round  an'  wastin'  of  time?  You  trusts 
me,"  he  says,  "an'  I  trusts  you — tha's  fair, 
Yere,  boy,  you  teks  the  pin  an'  collects  the 
reward.  I  teks  the  watch  an'  sells  it  fur 
whut  I  kin  git  fur  it.  Le's  close  the  deal 
'cause  I  p'intedly  is  got  to  hurry  frum 
yere." 

"Hole  on!"  I  says.  "How  'bout  my  ten 
dollars  boot?" 


86  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

"I'll  mek  it  five,"  he  says. 

"Gimme  the  five,"  I  says. 

So  he  counts  out  five  ones  and  yells  some 
thing  to  me  about  the  Palace  Afro-Ameri 
can  Hotel  being  straight  down  the  street 
about  half-a-mile,  on  the  left-hajid  side, 
and  in  another  second  he's  gone  from  view 
round  the  nearest  corner. 

But  I  does  not  go  to  look  for  no  Afro- 
American  Hotel,  nor  yet  for  no  Colored 
Arabian  Prince,  neither.  Something 
seems  to  warn  me  'twould  only  be  a  waste 
of  time,  so  instead  of  which,  as  I  steps 
along,  I  figures  out  where  I  stands  in  the 
swap.  And  it  comes  to  this :  I  is  in  to  the 
extent  of  five  dollars  in  cash,  also  one  dol 
lar  and  eighty  cents'  worth  of  nourishing 
vittles,  and  a  clover-leaf  pin,  which  it  must 
be  worth  all  of  seventy-five  cents  unless  the 
price  of  brass  has  took  a  big  fall. 

I  is  out  to  the  extent  of  telling  one  lie 
about  saving  a  little  boy  from  drowning 
and  also  one  old  imitation-gold  watchcase 
without  any  mechanical  works  in  it.  Like 
wise  and  furthermore,  I  can  imagine  the 
look  on  that  gold-tooth  nigger's  face  when 


Harlem  Heights       87 

he  gets  time  to  take  a  good  look  at  what 
he's  traded  for,  and  that  alone  I  values  at 
fully  two  dollars  more  in  private  satisfac 
tion  to  J.  Poindexter.  So,  taking  one 
thing  and  another,  getting  lost  has  been 
worth  pretty  close  on  to  ten  dollars,  besides 
which  it  has  taught  me  the  lesson  that  when 
a  trusting  stranger  goes  forth  in  the  Great 
City  he's  liable  to  fall  amongst  thieves,  but 
if  only  he  stays  honest  himself  and  keeps 
his  eye  skinned,  he  cannot  possibly  suffer 
no  harm  at  the  hands  of  the  wicked  de 
ceiver. 


/.  P&mdexter^  Colored 


CHAPTER  V 

Local  Colored 

IT  seems  like  having  dealings  with  de 
signing  persons  of  my  own  color  must- 
Ve  made  my  mind  act  more  keen.  All 
at  once  I  remembers  that  I  seen  the  name  of 
our  apartment-house  carved  on  a  big  square 
tombstone  over  the  front  door,  and  it  comes 
to  me  that  the  same's  name  has  got  some 
thing  to  do  with  grist-mills  and  something 
to  do  with  lawsuits.  I  studies  and  studies 
and  then,  like  a  flash,  I  gets  it: 

Wheatley  Court. 

With  this  much  to  work  on,  the  rest  is 
plenty  easy.  A  man  in  a  drugstore  consults 
in  a  telephone  book  and  gives  me  the  full 
specifications  for  getting  back  to  where  I 
has  strayed  from,  which  it  turns  out  it  is 
fully  three  miles  away  from  there  in  a 
southeast  direction.  But  I  buys  an  ice 
cream  soda  and  a  pack  of  chewing-gum 


Local  Colored         89 

before  I  asks  the  drugstore  man  for  his 
friendly  aid.  Already  I  has  took  note  of 
the  fact  that  most  of  the  folks  in  New  York 
acts  like  they  hates  to  answer  your  questions 
without  you  has  done  'em  some  kind  of  a 
favor  first.  So  I  places  this  man  under 
obligations  to  me  by  trading  with  him  and 
then  he's  willing  to  help  me.  That  is, 
he's  willing,  but  he  ain't  right  crazy  with 
joy  over  the  idea  of  it.  If  I'd  a-bought 
two  ice-cream  sodas  I  think  probably  he's 
a-moved  more  brisk-like.  Still,  he  does  it. 
So,  inside  of  an  hour  more,  what  with  rid 
ing  part  of  the  ways  on  street-cars  and 
walking  the  rest,  I  is  home  again  and  glad 
to  be  there. 

Even  so,  my  being  gone  so  long  ain't  put 
nobody  out,  because  Mr.  Dallas  is  yet  in 
bed,  but  is  now  thinking  seriously  about 
getting  up.  He  complains  of  feeling 
slightly  better  than  what  he  did  awhile 
back.  Still,  he  ain't  got  so  very  much  ap 
petite.  Orange  juice  and  black  coffee 
seems  ample  to  satisfy  his  desires;  he  also 
continues  to  remain  very  partial  to  the  ice- 
water.  He  says  he  must  hurry  up  and  dress 


90  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

and  get  outdoors  because  he's  got  an  en 
gagement  to  go  with  one  of  the  ladies  which 
he  met  the  night  before  and  look  at  a  little 
car  which  she's  thinking  about  buying  it, 
but  wants  to  get  his  expert  opinion  on  it 
first.  He  don't  specify  her  name,  but  I 
guesses  it's  the  puny  one  of  the  two — this 
here  Miss  Bill-Lee  DeWitt. 

Whilst  I  is  laying  out  his  clothes  for  him 
to  put  on  he  calls  out  to  me  from  the  bath 
room  that  I  will  doubtless  be  interested  to 
know  that  we'll  be  staying  on  in  New  York 
permanent.  I  asks  him  how  come,  and  he 
says  he's  passed  his  word  to  go  in  partners 
with  this  here  Mr.  H.  C.  Raynor  selling 
oil-properties. 

I  says  to  him,  I  says: 

"  'Scuse  me,  Mr.  Dallas,  but  it  sho'  does 
look  lak  to  me  we  is  movin'  powerful  fast. 
Only  yistiddy  we  gits  yere,  an'  today  we  is 
fixin'  to  bust  into  bus'ness.  Tha's  travelin' !" 

He  says  you  have  to  move  fast  in  New 
York  if  you  don't  want  to  get  run  over  and 
trompled  on  and  I  says  that  certainly  is  the 
Gospel  truth.  And  he  says  when  you 
meets  up  with  an  attractive  proposition  up 


Local  Colored         91 

here  in  this  country  you  is  just  naturally 
obliged  to  grab  holt  of  it  quick  or  else 
somebody  else  '11  be  beating  you  to  it.  I 
feels  myself  bound  to  agree  with  that,  too ; 
and  then  he  goes  on  shaving  himself  and 
abusing  of  his  skin  for  being  so  tender. 

I  ponders  a  spell  and  then  I  asks  him, 
sort  of  casual  and  accidental-like,  when 
was  it  that  Mr.  Raynor  displayed  this  here 
desirable  business  notion  to  him  and  he 
give  his  promise  for  to  enter  into  it? 

"Oh,"  he  says,  "it  was  late  last  night — 
after  we  started  back  from  the  road-house. 
He's  going  to  let  me  have  a  full  half  in 
terest,"  he  says. 

I  don't  say  nothing  out  loud  to  that.  But 
I  casts  my  rolling  eyes  up  to  the  ceiling 
and  I  says  in  low  tones  to  myself,  I  says: 
"Uh  huh,  uh  huh!"  just  like  that. 

That's  all  I  says.  And  I  makes  sure  he 
ain't  overhearing  me,  but  all  the  time  I'm 
doing  considerable  thinking.  I'm  think 
ing  that,  excusing  one  of  'em  is  white  folks 
and  the  other  is  rnulatto-complected  and 
excusing  that  one  has  got  decorated  teeth 
and  the  other  one  just  plain  teeth,  there's 


92  /.  Pomdexter,  Colored 

something  mighty  similar  someway  betwixt 
this  here  Mr.  Raynor  and  that  there  colored 
imposer,  which  he  called  himself  George 
Harris.  I  can't  make  up  my  mind  whether 
it's  their  expressions  or  the  way  they  looks 
at  you  out  of  their  eyes,  or  the  engaging 
way  they  both  has  of  being  so  generous- 
like  on  short  notice.  But  it  pointedly  must 
be  something  or  other,  because  when  I 
broods  about  one  I  can't  keep  from  brood 
ing  about  the  other. 

But,  naturally,  I  keeps  all  that  to  myself. 
After  Mr.  Dallas  has  done  gone  out  I  fixes 
myself  up  something  solid  to  eat  and  then, 
along  about  three  o'clock  I  drifts  down 
stairs  and  engages  in  friendly  conversation 
with  two  of  them  West  Indian  boys.  Be 
fore  very  long  the  subject  of  the  educated 
bones  gets  introduced  into  the  talk  some 
way,  and  it  so  happens  I  has  a  set  in  my 
pocket  and  I  gets  'em  out  and  sort  of  cud 
dles  'em  in  my  hand  and  rattles  'em  gentle ; 
and  one  of  the  two  boys  feels  persuaded  to 
suggest  that,  seeing  as  the  work  ain't  pres 
sing,  us  three  might  ramble  on  back  into  a 
little  kind  of  a  store-room  back  of  the  main 


Local  Colored         93 

hall  downstairs  and  make  a  few  passes  just 
to  keep  the  time  from  hanging  heavy  on  our 
hands. 

Now,  privately  I  has  always  contended 
that  craps-dice  is  meant  for  home  folks 
only.  These  here  foreigners  should  not 
never  toy  with  'em  if  they  expects  to  get 
ahead  in  the  world.  So  the  entertainment 
turns  out  just  like  I  expected  'twould. 
When  fifteen  minutes,  or  maybe  twenty, 
has  gone  by  very  pleasantly  there  is  not  no 
reason  why  I  should  linger  with  'em,  and 
I  piroots  back  on  upstairs  taking  along 
with  me  twenty-two  dollars  and  fifty  cents 
of  strange  money  to  get  acquainted  with  the 
spare  change  in  my  pants  pocket  and  leav 
ing  them  two  West  Indian  delegates  hold 
ing  a  grand  lodge  of  sorrow  betwixt  them 
selves. 

So  that  is  all  of  undue  importance  which 
happens  on  our  second  day. 


94  /.  Poiridtxter>  Colored 


CHAPTER  VI 

Gold  Coast 

TIME  certainly  does  flitter  by  here 
in  little  old  New  York,  as  I  has 
now  taken  to  calling  it.    Here  it  has 
been  nearly  six  weeks  since  last  I  done  any 
authorizing,  and  a  whole  heap  of  things 
has  come  to  pass  since  then;  yet,  when  I 
looks  back  at  it,  it  seems  like  'twas  only  yes 
terday  when  last  I  held  my  pen  in  hand. 

Also,  in  that  time  I  has  learned  much. 
When  I  reflects  back  on  how  sorghum- 
green  I  was  when  we  landed  here  off  the 
steam-cars,  I  actually  feels  right  sorry  for 
myself — not  knowing  what  a  road-house 
was,  and  figuring  that  when  somebody 
mentioned  sub-let  apartments  they  was  de 
scribing  the  name  of  a  family,  and  getting 
lost  in  Harlem  the  first  time  I  went  forth 
rambling,  and  all  them  other  fool  things 
which  I  done  and  said  at  the  outsetting  of 


Gold  Coast  95 

our  experiences!  No  longer  ago  than  last 
evening  I  was  saying  to  some  of  the  fellow- 
members  up  at  the  Pastime  Colored  Plea 
sure  and  Recreation  Club,  on  One-Hundred 
and  Thirty-fifth  street,  that  it's  a  born  won 
der  they  didn't  throw  a  loop  over  me  and 
cart  me  off  to  the  idiotic  asylum  for  safety 
keeping  till  the  newness  had  done  wore  off. 

I  must  also  say  for  Mr.  Dallas  that  he's 
progressed  very  rapid,  too.  And  likewise 
the  new  business  must  be  paying  him 
powerful  well  right  from  the  go-off,  be 
cause  we  certainly  is  rolled  up  in  the  lap- 
robes  of  luxury  and  living  off  the  top  skim 
mings  of  the  cream. 

Before  we  has  been  here  a  week  I  notices 
there's  a  change  taking  place  in  Mr.  Dal 
las.  He's  beginning  to  get  dissatisfied 
with  things  as  they  is  and  craving  after 
things  as  they  ain't.  Near  as  I  can  figure 
it  out,  he's  caught  a  kind  of  restlessness  dis 
ease  which  it  appears  to  afflict  everybody 
up  in  these  parts,  one  way  or  another.  It 
seems  like  to  me,  though,  he  must  a-taken 
it  early  and  in  a  violent  form. 

The  first  symptoms  is  when  he  fetches  in 


96  J.  Poindexter,  Colored 

one  of  these  here  little  slick-headed  Japa- 
nee  boys  to  do  the  cooking  and  et  cetera, 
so's  I  can  wait  on  him  more  exclusively. 
Anyway,  that's  the  reason  which  he  assigns 
to  me,  but  all  the  same  I  retains  my  own 
personal  views  on  the  matter.  We  don't 
need  no  extra  hands  to  help  run  our  estab 
lishment  no  more'n  we  needs  water  in  our 
shoes,  and  my  onspoken  opinion  is  that  Mr. 
Dallas  thinks  maybe  the  place  '11  look  more 
high-tonish  by  having  an  imported  strange 
foreigner  fussing  round.  Privately,  I 
don't  lose  no  time  designating  to  this  here 
Koga,  which  is  the  slick-headed  boy's  name, 
where  he  gets  off  so  far  as  I  is  concerned. 
No  sooner  does  he  arrive  in  amongst  our 
midst  than  I  tolls  him  back  into  the  far  end 
of  the  butler's  pantry  and  I  says  to  him,  I 
says: 

"Yaller  kid,  lis'sen :  I  ain't  'sponsible  fur 
yore  comin'  yere,  but  jest  so  shorely  ez  you 
starts  messin'  in  my  bus'ness  I'm  goin'  be 
'sponsible  fur  yore  everlastin'  departure. 
You  'tends  to  yore  wu'k  an'  I  'tends  to  mine 
an'  tharby  we  gits  along  harmonious.  But 
one  sign  of  meddlin'  f  rum  you  an'  I'll  jest 


Gold  Coast  97 

reach  back  yere  to  my  flank  pocket  whar  I 
totes  me  a  hosstile  razor  an7  'en  you  better 
pick  out  w'ich  one  of  these  yere  winders 
you  perfurs  to  jump  out  of." 

He  just  sort  of  grins  at  that  and  sucks 
some  loose  air  in  betwixt  his  front  teeth. 

"Tha's  right,"  I  says,  "save  up  yore 
breathin',  'cause  ef  I  teks  after  you  you'll 
shore  require  to  have  plenty  of  it  on  hand 
fur  pu'pposes  of  fast  travelin'.  Chile,"  I 
says,  "you's  had  yore  warnin' — so  harken 
an'  give  heed  or  else  you'll  find  yo'se'f 
carved  up  so  fine  they'll  have  to  fune'lize 
you  on  the  'stallment  plan.  Mr.  Dallas 
he  may  be  the  big  boss,"  I  says,  "but  you 
lakwise  better  pay  a  heap  of  'tention  to  the 
fust  assistant  deputy  sub-boss  w'ich  I'm," 
I  says,  "him." 

Saying  thus  I  gives  him  a  savigrous  look 
backward  over  my  shoulder  and  walks 
away  stepping  kind  of  light  on  my  feet  like 
a  cat  fixing  for  to  pounce.  He  ain't  saying 
a  word;  he's  just  standing  there  reserving 
some  more  breath. 

Of  course  I  ain't  really  aiming  to  start 
no  race  war.  Always  it  has  been  my  con- 


98  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

stant  aim  to  keep  out  of  rough  jams  with 
one  and  all  but,  even  so,  I  figures  that  it's 
just  as  well  to  get  the  jump  on  that  there 
Japanee  human-siphon  and  render  him 
tame  and  docile  from  the  beginning. 

Next  thing  is  that  Mr.  Dallas  begins 
faulting  the  clothes  he  brought  along  with 
him  from  home.  He  says  to  me  they  ap 
peared  all  right  when  he  was  having  'em 
made  to  order  for  him  by  M.  Marcus  & 
Son,  corner  of  Third  and  Kentucky  Avenue, 
which  that  is  our  leading  merchant-tailor, 
but  he  can  see  now  that  they  ain't  got  the 
real  New  York  snap  to  'em.  And  the  en 
suing  word  is  that  one  of  them  swell  Fifth 
Avenue  shops  is  making  him  a  full  new 
outfit.  Well,  I  must  admit  that  suits  me 
from  the  ground  up;  it's  a  sign  to  me  I'm 
about  to  inherit. 

And  the  next  thing  is  that  he  invests  in 
several  cases  of  fancy  drinkings  which  a 
bootlegging  white  man  fetches  it  up  to  us 
under  cover  of  the  darkness.  I  sees  Mr. 
Dallas  counting  out  the  money  for  to  pay 
him,  and  it  certainly  amounts  to  an  impor 
tant  sum.  I  ain't  questioning  the  wisdom 


Gold  Coast  99 

of  this  step  neither,  seeking  that  the  stock 
we  fetched  along  with  us  from  the  South  is 
vanishing  very  brisk,  and  the  new  supply 
ought  to  last  me  and  him  for  no  telling 
how  long,  if  we  both  is  careful. 

The  trouble  with  Mr.  Dallas,  though,  is 
he  ain't  careful.  Scarcely  a  day  passes 
without  some  of  his  new-made  Northern 
friends  dropping  in  on  him  and  sopping  up 
highballs  and  cocktails  and  this  and  that. 
That  there  Mr.  Bellows  is  one  of  our  most 
earnest  customers.  He'll  set  down  empty 
alongside  a  full  bottle  and  stay  right  there 
till  the  emptiness  and  the  fullness  has  done 
changed  places.  Also,  when  it  comes  to 
liberal  consuming  of  somebody  else's 
liquor,  Mr.  H.  C.  Raynor  has  his  on- 
doubted  merits.  And  when  Mr.  Dallas 
gives  a  party,  which  he  does  frequent  and 
often,  the  wines  and  such  just  flows  like 
manna  from  the  rod  of  Jonah.  Still,  that 
ain't  pestering  me  much.  When  white 
folks  lives  high  in  the  front  parlor  niggers 
gets  fat  back  in  the  kitchen. 

Then  on  top  of  all  this  he  buys  himself 
an  automobile  and  hires  a  white  chauffeur 


100  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

for  to  run  her.  She's  one  of  these  here 
low-cut,  high-powerful  cars  which  when 
you  wants  to  go  somewheres  in  a  hurry  you 
just  steps  on  her  and — b-z-z-z — you  is  done 
arrived!  But  she's  plenty  costive  to  run. 
Every  time  she  takes  a  deep  breath  there's 
another  half-gallon  of  gasoline  gone.  If 
the  truth  must  be  known,  Mr.  Dallas  has 
not  only  bought  one  car;  he's  bought  two. 
But  we  don't  see  the  second  one,  which  is  a 
dark  blue  runabout,  only  when  Miss  Bill- 
Lee  comes  round,  because  it  seems  Mr. 
Dallas  has  loaned  it  out  to  her  for  her  own 
use,  him  paying  the  garage  bills.  Betwixt 
themselves  they  speaks  of  it  as  a  loan,  but 
I  thinks  to  myself  that  this  probably  is  pre 
destinated  to  be  one  of  the  most  permanent 
loans  in  the  history  of  the  entire  loaning 
business. 

So  it  goes.  Every  day,  pretty  near  it, 
delivery  boys  comes  knocking  at  the  service 
door  bringing  this  and  that  for  Mr.  Dallas. 
If  it  ain't  half  a  dozen  fresh  pairs  of  shoes 
it's  a  sack-full  of  these  here  golf  utensils 
or  some  new  silk  pyjamas;  and  if  it  ain't 
another  motoring  coat  or  an  elaborous 


Gold  Coast          101 

smoking  jacket,  it's  a  set  of  silver-topped 
brushes  and  combs  and  bottles  and  things 
for  his  toilet  table,  with  his  initials  cut  on 
Jem.  It  seems  like  he  must  stop  in  some- 
wheres  every  morning  on  his  way  down 
town  to  business  and  buy  himself  some 
thing.  So  I  judges  the  money  must  be 
coming  in  mighty  brisk  at  the  bung-hole, 
because  it  certainly  is  pouring  out  mighty 
steady  from  the  spigots. 

It  also  must  be  a  powerful  handy  and 
convenient  business  to  be  in,  for  not  only 
does  it  appear  to  pay  so  well,  but  it  prac 
tically  almost  runs  itself.  Often  Mr.  Dal 
las  ain't  starting  down-town  till  the  morn 
ing  is  'most  gone,  and  sometimes  he  gets 
back  home  as  early  as  four  o'clock  in  the 
evening.  Come  Saturday,  he  don't  go  near 
the  headquarters  at  all.  That  astonishes 
me  deeply,  because  down  home  on  a  Satur 
day  the  stores  all  stays  open  till  late  at 
night  on  account  of  the  country  people 
coming  into  town  and  the  hands  at  the  to 
bacco  warehouses  and  the  factories  and  all 
being  paid  off,  and  the  niggers  being  out 
doing  their  trading.  Especially  the  nig- 


102  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

gers.  You  take  the  average  one  of  'em, 
and  if  he  can't  spend  all  he's  got  on  Satur 
day  night,  it  practically  spoils  his  Sunday 
for  him.  He  ain't  aiming  to  waste  none  of 
his  money,  saving  it.  So,  with  us,  Satur 
day  is  the  busiest  day  in  the  week.  But 
seemingly  not  so  in  this  locality. 

In  fact,  so  far  as  I  observes  to  date,  the 
folks  up  here  has  got  a  special  separate  sys 
tem  of  their  own  for  doing  pretty  near 
everything.  More  times  than  one  endur 
ing  this  past  month  I  has  said  to  myself 
that  there  certainly  is  a  big  difference  be 
twixt  Paducah  and  New  York  City.  You 
don't  notice  it  so  much  in  Paducah,  but, 
lawsy,  how  it  does  prone  into  you  when 
you  gets  to  New  Yorkl 


Country  Side        103 


CHAPTER  VII 

Country  Side 

FOR  instances,  now,  take  this  here  Sat 
urday  last  past  Down  home  Mr. 
Dallas  would  a-been  down  to  that 
there  oil-office  of  his  bright  and  early 
shaking  hands  with  the  paying  customers 
and  helping  boss  the  clerks  whilst  they 
drawed  off  the  oil,  and  all.  But  nothing  like 
that  don't  happen  here  with  us — no  sir,  not 
none  whatsomever.  He  lays  in  bed  until  it's 
going  on  pretty  near  ten  o'clock  and  then  he 
gets  up  and  I  packs  him,  and  along  about 
dinnertime,  which  they  calls  it  lunch-time 
round  this  town,  we  puts  out  in  the  car  to 
the  country  for  a  week-end.  Only,  for  the 
amount  of  baggage  we  totes  with  us  you'd 
a-thought  it  was  going  to  be  a  month-end. 
I'm  tooken  along  to  look  after  his  clothes 
and  to  do  general  valetting  for  him. 
We  takes  Mr.  Raynor  and  Mr,  Bellows 


104  /.  Poindexter>  Colored 

and  the  permanent-wavy  lady,  Mrs.  Gay- 
lord,  along  with  us.  Miss  DeWitt  and 
Miss  O'Brien  is  also  headed  for  the  same 
place  we  is,  but  they  comes  in  the  blue  run 
about  traveling  close  behind  us.  By  now, 
I  has  done  learned  not  to  expect  Mrs.  Gay- 
lord  to  bring  a  husband  with  her.  It  seems 
like  she  can  get  'em,  but  she  can't  keep  'em. 
She's  been  married  three  times  in  all;  but 
from  what  I  can  hear,  her  first  husband 
hauled  off  and  died  on  her  and  the  second 
one  kind  of  strayed  off  and  never  come 
back.  I  ain't  heard  'em  say  what  happened 
to  the  present  incumbent  but  since  he  ain't 
never  been  produced,  I  judge  he  must've 
got  mislaid  someway,  so  now  she's  practi 
cally  all  out  of  husbands  again.  Still,  she 
seems  to  be  bearing  up  very  serene  at  all 
times.  If  she  misses  'em  she  don't  let  on. 
Well,  we  loads  up  the  car  with  the  white 
folks,  and  with  valises  and  golf-sacks  and 
one  thing  and  another  and  starts  for  the 
country.  But  I  must  say  for  it  that  it's 
totally  unsimilar  to  any  country  like  what 
I  has  been  used  to  heretofore.  The  front 
yards  which  we  passes  all  looks  like  the 


Country  Side         105 

owners  must  take  'em  in  at  nights  and  in 
the  mornings  brush  'em  off  good  and  put 
'em  back  outdoors  again;  and  most  of  the 
residences  is  a  suitable  size  to  make  good 
high-school  buildings  or  else  feeble- 
mind  institutes,  and  even  the  woodlots 
has  a  slicked-up  appearance  like  as  if  they'd 
just  come  back  that  same  day  from  the  dry- 
cleaner's.  In  more'n  an  hour's  steady 
travel  I  don't  see  a  single  rail  fence  nor  a 
regulation  weed-patch  nor  a  lye  kettle  nor 
an  ash-hopper  nor  a  corn-crib  nor  a  mar 
tin-box  nor  a  hound-dog  nor  a  smoke 
house  nor  scarcely  anything  which  would 
signify  it  to  be  sure-enough  country.  I 
thinks  to  myself  that  if  a  cotton-tail  rabbit 
was  aiming  to  camp  out  here  he'd  naturally 
be  obliged  to  pack  his  bedding  along  with 
him. 

When  we  arrives  where  we  is  headed  for 
I  is  still  further  surprised  because,  before 
hand,  Mr.  Dallas  tells  me  we  is  going  to 
stop  at  a  country-place,  but  it  looks  to  me 
more  like  a  city-hall  which  has  done  strayed 
far  off  from  its  functions  and  took  root  in 
a  big  clump  of  trees  alongside  the  river. 


106  /.  Poindexier^  Colored 

Why,  it's  got  more  rooms  in  it  than  our 
new  county  infirmary's  got  and  grounds 
around  it  all  beautiful  like  a  cemetery.  It 
belongs  to  a  very  spry-acting  lady  named 
Mrs.  Banister,  which  she  is  a  friend  of  Mrs. 
Gaylord's.  There's  a  Mr.  Banister,  too, 
but  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  the  lady  is  the 
sole  proprietor  and  his  job  is  just  being 
Mrs.  Banister's  Mr.  and  helping  with  the 
drinks  when  the  butler  is  busy  doing  some 
thing  else.  I  hears  the  cook  saying  out  in 
the  kitchen  that  he  can  also  mix  a  very  tasty 
salad-dressing.  Well,  that's  what  he  looks 
like  to  me,  just  a  natural-born  salad-dress 
ing  mixer. 

But  we  don't  arrive  there  until  it's  get 
ting  towards  four  o'clock  by  reason  of  us 
stopping  for  quite  a  sojourn  at  a  tea-house 
along  the  road.  Leastwise,  they  calls  it  a 
tea-house,  but  its  principalest  functions, 
so  far  as  I  can  note,  is  to  provide  accommo 
dations  for  folks  to  dance  and  to  drink  up 
the  refreshments  which  they've  fetched 
along  with  'em  in  pocket  flasks;  and  you 
might  call  that  tea  if  you  prefers  to,  but  it's 
the  kind  of  tea  which  now  sells  by  the  case 


Country  Side         107 

for  cash  down  and  is  delivered  at  your 
house  after  dark. 

That's  mainly  what  our  outfit  does  there 
— dance  and  refresh  themselves  with  what 
the  gentlemen  brought  along  on  their  hips. 
From  where  I'm  setting  in  the  car  outside 
I  can  see  'em  weaving  in  and  out  amongst 
the  tables  whilst  a  string-band  plays  jazz 
ing  tunes  for  'em  to  dance  by.  But  Mr. 
Dallas  don't  appear  to  be  getting  the  hang 
of  it  so  very  well  and  the  chauffeur,  who's 
setting  there  with  me,  he  allows  probably 
the  boss  ain't  caught  on  to  these  here  new 
dances  yet. 

I  says  to  him,  I  says: 

"Huh!     Does  you  call  'at  a  new  dance?" 

He  says: 

"Sure — the  newest  one  of  'em  all.  That's 
the  Reitzenburger  Grapple — it's  just  hit 
town." 

And  I  says: 

"Then  it  shore  must  a-been  a  long  time 
on  the  road,  gittin'  yere;  'cause  niggers 
down  my  way,"  I  says,  "wuz  dancin'  'at  air 
dance  fully  ten  yeahs  ago — only  they  done 
so  behind  closed  doors,"  I  says,  "bein' 


108  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

'feared  the  police  mout  claim  disawd'ly 
conduct  an'  stop  'em  f  rum  it." 

He  says: 

"Did  you  ever  dance  it?" 

I  says  to  him: 

"Who,  me?  Many's  a  time.  But  not 
lately,"  I  says. 

"What  made  you  stop?"  he  says. 

"I  got  religion,"  I  says. 

There  was  also  considerable  careless 
dancing  done  at  the  Banister  place  that 
night  and  early  the  following  morning. 
In  fact,  there  was  considerable  of  a  good 
many  things  done  there  that  Saturday  and 
Sunday — tennis  and  golf  and  horseback-rid 
ing  and  billiards  and  pool  and  going  in 
swimming  in  a  private  lake  on  the  premises 
and  playing  a  card  game  which  they  calls  it 
auction-bridge,  and  eating  and  drinking 
and  smoking.  Everybody  is  so  busy  all 
day  changing  clothes  for  the  next  event  they 
ain't  got  very  much  time  for  the  thing 
that's  on  at  the  time  being.  But  when  the 
night-time  comes  the  ladies  strips  down  to 
full-dress  and  all  hands  just  settles  in  for 
the  three  favorite  sports,  which  is  dancing 


Country  Side         109 

and  cards  and  drinks,  both  long  and  short. 
I  has  seen  thirsty  gentlemen  before  in  my 
day  but  to,  the  best  of  my  recollection  I  ain't 
never  encountered  no  ladies  that  seemed  so 
parched-like  as  one  or  two  of  these  here 
ladies  was.  I'm  thinking  in  particular  of 
Mrs.  Gaylord.  She  certainly  is  suffering 
from  a  severe  attack  of  the  genuine  parch 
ments.  But  I'll  say  this  much  for  her — 
she's  doing  her  level  best  to  get  shut  of  it 
by  taking  the  ordained  treatment.  That 
Saturday  evening  whilst  I  is  upstairs  in 
Mr.  Dallas'  room  laying  out  his  dress- 
clothes,  the  guests,  about  a  dozen  of  'em  is 
out  in  the  front  yard  setting  round  little 
tables  where  I  can  see  'em  from  the  win 
dow,  and  every  time  I  passes  the  window 
and  looks  out  it  seems  like  she's  being 
served  with  a  little  bit  more.  She  carries 
it  just  beautiful,  though;  she  certainly  has 
my  deep  personal  admirations  for  her  ca 
pacity.  But  next  day  when  she  comes  down 
stairs  she  acts  dauncy  and  low-spirited  for 
awhile.  She's  got  on  a  fresh  complexion,  to 
be  sure,  but  even  so  she  looks  sort  of  weath 
er-beaten  'round  the  eyes.  You  take  'em 


110  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

when  they  is  either  prematurely  old  or  else 
permanently  young  and  the  morning  is  al 
ways  the  most  tellingest  time  on  'em.  Well, 
several  of  those  present  ain't  feeling  the 
best  in  the  world,  seemingly,  that  Sunday 
when  they  strolls  forth  for  late  breakfast 
'long  about  half  past  eleven.  It  was  after 
three  o'clock  before  they  dispersed  and 
some  of  'em  ain't  entirely  got  over  it  yet — 
they  is  still  kind  of  dispersed-looking,  if 
you  gets  my  meaning. 

Well,  all  day  Sunday  is  just  like  Saturday 
evening  was,  only  if  anything,  more  so ;  and 
late  Sunday  night  the  party  busts  up  and 
scatters  and  we  starts  back  to  town.  Mr. 
Dallas  he  elects  for  to  ride  back  in  the  run 
about  with  Miss  Bill-Lee  so  that  throws 
Miss  O'Brien,  the  one  which  they  calls  Pat 
for  short,  into  the  big  car  with  the  rest  of 
our  crowd.  Starting  off  she  quarrels  right 
peart  with  Mrs.  Gaylord.  I  gathers  that 
they  was  partners  at  the  bridging  game  part 
of  the  time  and  they  can't  get  reconciled 
with  one  another  over  the  way  each  one  of 
'em  handled  her  cards.  The  more  they 
scandalizes  about  it  the  more  onreconciled 


Country  Side         111 

they  gets,  too.  It  seems  like  each  one  thinks 
the  other  don't  scarcely  know  how  to  deal, 
let  alone  play  the  hands  after  she  gets  'em. 
Setting  there  listening  to  'em  carrying  on 
I  thinks  to  myself  these  here  Northern  white 
folks  must  hate  to  lose  even  a  little  bit  of 
money.  I  knows  these  two  ladies  couldn't 
a-lost  much  neither — I  heard  Mr.  Raynor 
saying  beforehand  they  was  going  to  play 
five  cents  a  point.  But  to  overhear  'em  de 
bating  now,  you'd  a-thought  it  had  been  a 
real  stiff  game,  like  dollar-limit  poker,  say, 
or  set-back  at  six  bits  a  corner. 

After  awhile  Miss  Pat  she  quits  argufy 
ing  and  drops  off  to  sleep  and  Mr.  Bellows 
he  likewise  drifts  off  into  a  doze  and  that 
leaves  Mrs.  Gaylord  and  Mr.  Raynor  talk 
ing  together  in  the  back  seat  kind  of  con 
fidential.  But  the  hood  of  the  car  being 
over  'em  it  seems  like  it  throws  their  voices 
forward,  and  setting  up  with  the  chauffeur 
I  can't  keep  from  eavesdropping  on  part 
of  what  they  is  confabbing  about. 

Presently  I  hears  Mr.  Raynor  saying: 
"Well,  you  never  can  guess  in  advance 
what  a  sap  will  like,  can  you?    You  would 


112  J.  Poindexter,  Colored 

have  thought  he'd  fall  for  a  kiddo  with  a 
good,  strong  up-to-date  tomboy  line,  like 
little  Patsy  here.  But  no — not  at  all!  He 
takes  one  look  into  those  languishing  eyes 
of  our  other  friend  and  goes  down  and  out 
for  the  count.  Funny — eh,  what?  Well, 
it  only  goes  to  show  that  while  the  vamp 
stuff  is  getting  a  trifle  old-fashioned  it  still 
pays  dividends — if  only  you  pick  the  right 


customer." 


Then  I  hears  Mrs.  Gaylord  saying: 

"Her  system  may  be  a  bit  passe  but  you 
can't  say  she  doesn't  work  fast  once  she  gets 
under  way.  Clever,  I  call  it." 

"Clever?"  he  says,  "you  bet!  She  works 
fast  and  she  works  clean,  tidying  up  as  she 
goes  along  and  burying  her  own  dead.  I 
always  did  say  for  her  that  when  it  came  to 
being  a  gold-digger  she  had  the  original 
Forty-niners  looking  like  inmates  of  the 
Bide-a-Wee  Home.  Fast?  I'll  say  so!" 

"She  has  need  to  be  fast,  working  opposi 
tion  to  you,  Herby,  dear,"  says  Mrs.  Gay- 
lord.  "Speaking  of  expert  blood-suckers,  I 
shouldn't  exactly  call  you  a  vegetarian." 

"Hush,  honey,"  he  says,  "let's  not  talk 


Country  Side        113 

shop  out  of  business  hours.  And  anyhow," 
he  says,  "I  don't  mind  a  little  healthy  com 
petition  on  the  side.  It  stimulates  trade 
under  the  main  tent — if  it's  done  in  modera 


tion." 


"You  should  know,  Herby,"  she  says  sort 
of  laughing;  "with  your  experience  you 
should  know  if  anybody  does." 

Then  he  laughs,  too,  a  kind  of  a  low  and 
meaning  chuckle,  and  they  goes  to  talking 
about  something  else. 

But  I  has  done  heard  enough  to  set  me  to 
studying  mighty  earnest.  Neither  one  of 
'em  ain't  specifying  who  they  means  by  "he" 
and  "she"  but  I  can  guess.  Once  more  I 
says  to  myself,  I  says : 

"Uh  huh,  uh  huh! 


114  /.  Potndexter,  Colored 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Dark  Secrets 

SOME  of  the  folks  which  has  been  fol 
lowing  our  experiences,  as  I  has 
wrote  them  down,  might  think  it  was 
my  bounden  duty  to  go  straight-away  to 
Mr.  Dallas  and  promulgate  to  him  these 
here  remarks  which  I  hears  pass  betwixt 
Mr.  H.  C.  Raynor  and  the  permanent-wavy 
lady  on  that  Sunday  night  six  weeks  ago, 
coming  back  from  our  week-end  in  the 
country.  But  I  does  not  by  no  means  see 
my  way  clear  to  doing  so.  In  the  first  place, 
I  ain't  never  been  what  you  might  call  a 
professional  promulgator.  In  the  second 
place,  I  figures  the  time  ain't  ripe  to  start 
in  telling  what  I  believes  and  what  I  sus 
picions.  In  the  third  place,  I  don't  know 
yet  if  it  ever  will  be  ripe. 

Some  white  folks,  seems  like,  is  just  nat 
urally  beset  with  a  craving  to  bust  into 


Dark  Secrets        115 

colored  folkses'  business  and  try  for  to  run 
their  personal  affairs  for  'em.  Mr.  Dallas, 
he  is  not  gaited  that  way  in  no  particular 
whatsoever;  him  having  been  born  and 
raised  South  and  naturally  knowing  better 
anyhow;  but  some  I  might  mention  is. 
Still,  and  even  so,  most  white  folks  don't 
care  deeply  for  anybody  at  all,  much  less 
it's  somebody  which  is  colored,  to  be  telling 
'em  onpleasant  and  onwelcome  tidings. 
And  he  is  white  and  I  is  black — and  there 
you  is! 

Another  way  I  looks  at  it  is  this  way: 
There's  a  whole  heap  of  white  folks,  mainly 
Northerners,  which  thinks  that  because  us 
black  folks  talks  loud  and  laughs  a-plenty 
in  public  that  we  ain't  got  no  secret  feel 
ings  of  our  own ;  they  thinks  we  is  ready  and 
willing  at  all  times  to  just  blab  all  we  knows 
into  the  first  white  ear  that  passes  by. 
Which  I  reckon  that  is  one  of  the  most  mon 
strous  mistakes  in  natural  history  that  ever 
was.  You  take  a  black  boy  which  he  work 
ing  for  a  white  family.  Being  on  close  rela 
tions  that-a-way  with  'em  he's  bound  to 
know  everything  they  does — what  they  is 


116  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

thinking  about,  what-all  they  hopes  and 
what-all  they  fears.  But  does  they,  for 
their  part,  know  anything  about  how  he 
acts  amongst  his  own  race?  I'll  say  con 
trary!  They  maybe  might  think  they 
knows  but  you  take  it  from  J.  Poindexter 
they  positively  does  not  do  nothing  of  the 
kind.  All  what  they  gleans  about  him — his 
real  inside  emotions,  I  means — is  exactly 
what  he's  willing  for  'em  to  glean;  that  and 
no  more.  And  usually  that  ain't  so  much. 
Yes  sir,  the  run  of  colored  folks  is  much 
more  secretious  than  what  the  run  of  the 
white  folks  give  'em  credit  for.  I  reckon 
they  has  been  made  so.  '  In  times  past  they 
has  met  up  with  so  many  white  folks  which 
taken  the  view  that  everything  black  men 
and  black  women  done  in  their  lodges  or 
their  churches  or  amongst  their  own  color 
was  something  to  joke  about  and  poke  fun 
at.  Now,  you  take  me.  I  is  perfectly  will 
ing  to  laugh  with  the  white  folks  and  I  can 
laugh  to  order  for  'em,  if  the  occasion  ap 
pears  suitable,  but  I  is  not  filled  up  with  no 
deep  yearnings  to  have  'em  laughing  at  me 


Dark  Secrets         117 

and  my  private  doings.     'Specially  if  it's 
strange  white  folks. 

Furthermore  there's  this  about  it:  I've 
taken  due  notice  that,  whites  and  blacks 
alike,  pretty  near  anybody  will  resent  your 
coming  to  'em  on  your  own  say-so  and  tell 
ing  'em  right  out  of  a  clear  sky  that  they  is 
making  a  grievous  big  mistake  in  doing  this 
or  that.  If  they  themselves  takes  the  lead — 
if  they  seeks  you  out  of  their  own  accord 
and  says  to  you,  confidential-like,  they  is  in 
a  peck  of  trouble  and  craves  to  know  how 
they  is  going  to  get  out  from  under  the  load 
— why,  that's  different.  Then  you  can  step 
in,  in  friendship's  name,  and  do  your  best 
to  help  'em  unravel  the  tangle  which  they 
has  got  themselves  snarled  up  in  it.  If  you 
asks  me,  I  would  say  that  advice  gets  a  heap 
warmer  welcome  where  you  goes  hunting 
for  it  than  where  it  comes  hunting  for  you. 
And,  likewise,  sympathy  is  something 
which  you  appreciates  all  the  more  if  you 
went  out  shopping  for  it  yourself.  You 
don't  want  it  to  come  knocking  at  the  door 
like  one  of  these  here  old  peddlers  taking 
orders  for  enlarging  crayon  portraits  and 


118  /.  Pdindexter>  Colored 

forcing  its  way  right  into  your  fireside 
circle  whether  or  no,  and  camping  there  in 
your  lap. 

Moreover,  speaking  in  particular  of  our 
own  case,  what  right  has  I  got  to  be  intimat 
ing  to  Mr.  Dallas  my  private  beliefs  about 
the  private  characters  of  this  here  brisk 
crowd  which  he  has  gone  and  got  so  thick 
with  since  we  arrived  here  on  the  scene? 
Right  from  the  first  I  has  had  my  own  per 
sonal  convictions  about  the  set  he's  in  with. 
I  has  made  up  my  mind  that  they  ain't  the 
genuine  real  quality;  that  they  is  just  a 
slicked-up,  highly-polished  imitation  of  the 
real  quality;  that  they  ain't  doing  things  so 
much  as  they  is  overdoing  'em.  The  way  I 
looks  at  it,  they  bears  the  same  relation  to 
regulation  high-toney  folks  which  a  tin  min 
now  does  to  sure-enough  live  bait.  You 
maybe  might  fool  a  fish  with  it  but  you 
couldn't  fool  the  world  at  large  for  so  very 
long.  And  as  for  me,  I  ain't  been  fooled  at 
all,  not  at  no  time.  But  I  naturally  can't  go 
stating  my  presenterments  to  Mr.  Dallas 
without  he  the  same  as  practically  invites 
me  first  for  to  do  so.  Now,  can  I?  But  if 


Dark  Secrets         119 

he  finds  it  out  for  himself  and  approaches 
me,  that's  a  roan  horse  of  another  color. 

So  the  above  reasons  is  why  I  is  at  present 
keeping  my  mouth  shut  in  front  of  him 
about  what  concerns  him  solely.  Besides, 
so  many  things  continues  to  happen  from 
day  to  day  here  in  New  York  it  keeps  me 
right  busy  just  staying  up  with  the  proces 
sion  and  not  overlooking  the  stray  'bets. 
For  instances,  now,  there's  my  moving-pic 
ture  scheme  which  I  thinks  up  out  of  my 
own  head  and  which  promises  to  turn  out 
mighty  profitable  if  everything  goes  well. 


120  /.  Poindexter^  Colored 


CHAPTER  IX 

Movie -Land 

HAVING  so  much  else  to  keep  track 
of  I  has  plumb  forgot  up  till  now 
to  set  forth  how  comes  it  we  gets 
ourselves  interested  in  the  movies.  You 
see,  both  Miss  Pat  and  Miss  Bill-Lee  is  in 
that  line,  although  not  working  at  it  very 
steady.  In  fact,  practically  all  our  crowd 
lets  on  to  be  doing  something  or  other  for  to 
earn  a  living  when  they  can't  think  of  noth 
ing  else  to  do.  It  seems  like  Mr.  Bellows 
sets  himself  up  to  be  one  of  these  here  in 
terior  decorators,  which  I  don't  know  ex 
actly  what  that  is,  though  I  has  my  notions 
for  I  has  seen  him  decorating. 

Let  somebody  else  provide  the  materials 
and  he's  right  there  with  the  interior.  Mrs. 
Gaylord  she's  an  alimony-collector  by  pro 
fession  and  doing  right  well  at  her  trade, 
too,  from  all  I  can  gather.  And  Mr.  Raynor 


Movie- Land         121 

he  calls  himself  a  broker.  I  hears  Mrs.  Gay- 
lord  saying  once,  sort  of  joking,  that  being  a 
broker  is  the  present  tense  of  being  broke, 
which  I  reckon  that  is  not  only  grammar 
but  facts,  except  when  somebody  like  Mr. 
Dallas  comes  along  with  ready  cash  on 
hand.  But  the  two  young  ladies  has  both 
been  in  theatricals  for  going  on  several  years 
now,  first  on  the  old-fashioned  talking  stage 
and  more  lately  with  the  films ;  so  naturally 
there's  a  right  smart  talk  about  films  and 
screens  and  all,  going  on  from  time  to  time. 
It  seems  like  all  hands  amongst  'em 
agrees  there's  a  heap  of  money  in  the  film 
business  if  only  the  right  folks  was  to  take 
hold  of  it  and  get  it  away  from  the  parties 
which  is  now  trying  to  run  it.  It  also  seems 
that  if  only  Miss  Bill-Lee  could  get  the 
proper  sort  of  a  chance,  which  she  can't  on 
account  of  jealousy  and  one  thing  and  an 
other,  she'd  be  a  brightly  shining  star  in  no 
time.  All  she  needs  is  for  somebody  to  put 
her  out  in  a  piece  which'll  suit  her  and  then 
she'll  be  a  sensational  success  and  all  con 
cerned  will  make  more  money  than  they'll 
know  what  to  do  with.  I  hears  her  saying 


122  /.  Pomdexter,  Colored 

so  more  than  once  to  Mr.  Dallas,  all  the 
time  looking  at  him  with  them  yearning  big 
black  eyes  of  hers.  It  seems  like  that  is  the 
one  thing  which  she  requires  for  to  make 
her  perfectly  happy.  And  seeing  as  how 
that  appears  to  be  Mr.  Dallas'  chief  aim  in 
life  these  times — making  Miss  Bill-Lee 
more  happy — I  says  to  myself  that  first 
thing  we  know  we'll  be  investing  in  a  new 
line  on  the  side.  Mr.  Raynor,  though,  he 
ain't  so  favorable  to  the  notion.  I  can  tell 
that  he  don't  want  Mr.  Dallas  to  be  spread 
ing  his  play  'round  so  promiscuous.  It  ain't 
so  much  what  he  says;  it's  by  the  way  he 
looks  when  the  subject  comes  up  that  I  can 
figure  out  what  his  private  emotions  is. 

Anyhow,  the  upshot  is  that  Mr.  Dallas 
takes  to  spending  considerable  of  his  spare 
time  at  a  studio  up-town  where  the  two 
young  ladies  works,  getting  pointers  and  so 
on.  One  evening — I  should  say,  one  after 
noon — he  telephones  down  to  the  apartment 
for  me  to  bring  one  of  his  heavy  overcoats 
up  there  to  him  because,  what  with  late 
fall-time  being  here  now,  the  weather  has 
turned  off  sort  of  cold ;  and  that's  how  be- 


Movie- Land         123 

falls  that  I  gets  my  look  at  the  insides  of 
one  of  these  here  studio  places,  which  I 
must  say,  alongside  of  the  one  I  seen,  a 
crazy-house  is  plumb  rational  and  abound 
ing  in  restfulness. 

From  the  outsides  it  looks  to  be  like 
something  suitable  for  a  tobacco  stemmery 
or  maybe  a  skating-rink,  but  once  I  gets 
past  the  watchman  on  the  outer  door — 
Who-ee!  That's  *\\—Who-ee!  I  stops  close 
by  the  door  and  for  a  spell  I  watches  what's 
going  on  and  I  thinks  to  myself  that  whilst 
there  may  be  a-plenty  of  money  in  the  mov 
ing-picture  business,  and  doubtless  is,  the 
bulk  of  it  is  liable  to  stay  in  it  permanent. 
Never  before  in  my  whole  life  has  I  seen  so 
many  folks  letting  on  like  they  was  fixing 
for  to  transact  something  important  and 
then  not  doing  it.  If  they  was  all  on  piece 
work  they  couldn't  earn  enough  to  pay  for 
half -soling  the  shoes  which  they  wears  out 
running  about  getting  in  one  another's  way. 
But  as  I  understands  it,  they  mainly  is  hired 
by  the  day  and  not  by  the  job,  and  my  heart 
certainly  goes  out  in  sympathetical  feelings 
for  the  man,  whoever  he  may  be,  that's  foot- 


124  /.  Paindextefj  Colored 

ing  the  bills  at  the  end  of  the  week.  If  I 
was  him  I'd  charge  general  admittance  for 
the  public  to  come  in  and  witness  these  here 
carryings-on,  and  thereby  get  some  part  of 
my  wastage  back. 

Almost  the  first  thing  which  distracts  my 
attention  is  a  pestered-looking  man  with  a 
pair  of  these  here  high  leather  leggings  on, 
like  he  was  fixing  to  go  horse-back  riding 
but  in  his  frenzy  has  mislaid  the  horse; 
which  he  is  full  of  authority  and  dashing 
to  and  fro  with  a  big  megaphome  in  one 
hand  and  in  the  other  a  bunch  of  wadded- 
up  paper  with  writing  on  it.  He  appears 
to  be  in  sole  charge;  and  if  hollowing  loud 
was  worth  fifty  cents  a  hollow  he'd  be  a 
millionaire  inside  of  a  month  if  his  voice 
didn't  give  out  on  him.  I  finds  out  a  little 
later  that  he's  what  they  calls  the  director. 
Well,  he  certainly  does  directicate. 

One  minute  he's  yelling  at  a  couple  of  the 
hands  up  in  the  loft  overhead,  which  their 
job  is  to  handle  some  of  the  lights  and  then 
he's  yelling  at  the  little  fellow  which  is  run 
ning  the  picture-taking  machinery,  and  then 
he's  yelling  at  a  bunch  of  men  which  has 


Movie-Land         125 

charge  of  the  scenery,  only  this  crowd  don't 
pay  no  attention  to  him  but  just  goes  on 
doing  their  work  very  languid-like;  so  I 
judges  they  must  belong  to  a  union  and 
therefore  can  afford  to  be  independent. 
But  most  in  general  he  devotes  his  yelling 
to  a  whole  multitude  of  folks  all  dressed  up 
in  acting  clothes  with  their  faces  painted 
the  curiousest  ever  I  seen.  And,  at  that,  I 
seen  a  sight  of  face-painting  since  I  come  to 
New  York!  Under  them  funny  lights  their 
skins  is  an  awful  corpsy  greenish-yellowish- 
whitish  and  their  lips  is  purple,  like  as  if 
they  has  been  drownded  nine  days  and  has 
just  now  come  to  the  top. 

He  herds  all  these  people  together  and 
gets  'em  set  to  act  a  piece.  And  then  some 
thing  goes  wrong.  Either  he  ain't  satisfied 
with  the  lights  or  with  their  actions  or  else 
he  remembers  something  important  which 
has  been  forgotten  and  he  yells  for  some 
body  to  fetch  it,  and  six  or  eight  runs  to  get 
it  and  brings  the  wrong  thing  back,  and  he 
raves  and  cusses  under  his  breath  and  tells 
everybody  to  go  back  to  their  marks  and 
start  in  all  over  again. 


126  /.  Poittdexter,  Colored 

And  the  next  try  is  just  the  same  as  the 
first.  And  the  third  try  is  not  no  more  suc 
cessful  than  the  other  two  was.  So  then  the 
director  he  shooes  the  whole  crowd  back 
out  of  the  way  and  walks  up  and  down  and 
waves  his  arms  and  wildly  states  that  he 
hopes  he  may  be  hanged  if  he's  going  to  go 
on  until  they  learns  how  to  rehearse.  And 
I  remarks  to  myself  that  if  I  was  them 
white  folks  I  certainly  would  give  him  his 
wish  and  hang  him! 

So  then  everybody  loafs  round  a  spell, 
whilst  the  director  confabs  with  a  little  thin 
nervoused-looking  man  called  Mr.  Simons, 
with  glasses  on.  And  then  the  director  an 
nounces  that  they  won't  try  to  shoot  the  mob 
scene  today  and  all  the  extras  can  go  till 
nine  o'clock  tomorrow  morning,  and  in  the 
meantime  he  trusts  and  prays  that  they  may 
get  a  little  sense  or  something  in  their  heads. 
So,  accordingly,  most  of  the  multitude  de 
parts  leaving  only  about  a  dozen  or  more 
actor  ladies  and  gentlemen  setting  round  on 
odds  and  ends  and  seemingly  very  grateful 
for  the  peaceful  lull. 

By  this  time  I  has  done  localized  Mr. 


Movie-Land         127 

Pulliam  where  he's  standing  over  in  a  cor 
ner  talking  with  Miss  Bill-Lee  and  a  couple 
more  ladies,  and  I  makes  my  way  to  him. 
Doing  so,  I  has  to  pass  behind  some  of  the 
scenery.  On  the  other  side  it's  just  like  a 
row  of  houses  with  roofs  and  porches  and 
all,  but  here  on  the  behind-side  of  it  there 
ain't  nothing  only  plastering  laths  and  rag 
gedy  ends  of  burlaps  and  chicken-coop  wire 
and  naked  joists.  It  puts  me  right  sharply 
in  mind  of  some  of  these  folks  we  has  been 
associating  with  up  here — everything  in 
stock  devoted  to  making  a  show  for  the 
front  and  nothing  except  the  rubbish  left 
over  for  the  backing.  Well,  I  reckons  it's  al 
ways  like  that  when  you  is  making-believe 
to  be  something  you  truly  ain't,  whether 
it's  in  a  moving-picture  studio  or  out  in  the 
great  world  at  large. 

After  I  gives  Mr.  Dallas  his  coat  he  tells 
me  to  hang  round  if  I  wishes  to  do  so  and 
watch  'em  working.  So  I  hangs  round. 
But  there  ain't  much  working  done  for 
quite  a  spell  but,  instead,  a  lot  of  general 
speechifying  and  explaining  betwixt  this 
one  and  that  one.  Finally  though,  the  pest- 


128  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

ered  man  he  yells  out  something  about  be 
ing  ready  to  shoot  an  interior.  All  hands 
rambles  over  to  another  part  of  the  build 
ing  where  there  is  more  scenery  which  is 
fixed  up  to  look  like  the  insides  of  a  short- 
order  restaurant.  One  of  the  young  ladies 
and  one  of  the  young  gentlemen  sets  down 
at  a  table  in  front  of  the  camera  and  lets  on 
to  be  eating  a  quick  snack  whilst  a  white 
man,  which  is  dressed  up  like  a  waiter  and 
blacked  up  to  look  like  he's  colored,  waits 
on  'em.  The  two  at  the  table  appears  to  be 
giving  satisfaction  but  the  ruler  of  the  roost 
ain't  pleased  with  the  way  the  waiter  acts 
out  his  part. 

I  ain't  blaming  him  for  not  being  pleased, 
neither.  To  start  with,  the  waiter  is  blacked 
up  too  much.  He  don't  look  like  he's  genu 
ine  colored;  he  looks  more  like  he's  been 
shining  up  a  cook  stove  and  got  most  of  the 
polish  rubbed  off  onto  his  face  and  hands. 
He  don't  act  like  he's  genuine  colored, 
neither.  I  judges  he  must  have  studied  the 
business  of  acting  like  colored  folks  from 
watching  nigger  minstrel  shows.  He  keeps 
rolling  his  eyes  up  in  his  head  and  smack- 


Movie -Land         129 

ing  his  lips,  the  same  as  an  end-man  does, 
which  is  all  right,  I  reckon,  when  you  is  an 
end-man  but  which  does  not  fill  the  bill 
when  you  is  letting  on  to  be  a  sure-enough 
black  person ;  because  for  years  past  I  ain't 
never  seen  scarsely  no  minstrel  man  which 
really  deported  himself  as  though  he  had 
colored  feelings  inside  of  him. 

Still,  I  must  say  for  him  that  he's  doing 
his  level  best  to  oblige.  But  what  with  him 
trying  to  remember  to  keep  the  eyes  rolling 
and  the  lips  smacking,  and  the  director  yell 
ing  at  him  through  that  megaphome  to  do 
the  next  step  this-a-way  or  that-a-way,  he's 
presently  so  muddled  up  in  his  mind  that  it 
seems  like  he  can't  get  nothing  at  all  accom 
plished.  It  makes  me  feel  actually  sorry 
for  him ;  but  I  ain't  sorry  for  the  director. 
One  of  'em  is  ignorant  and  willing  to  admit 
it;  the  other  one  is  ignorant  but  is  trying  to 
cover  it  up  by  behaving  bossified  and  mak 
ing  loud  sounds  and  laying  the  blame  on 
somebody  else.  Leastwise,  that's  how  I 
figures  it  out.  I  says  to  myself,  I  says : 

"It's  all  wrong  frum  who  laid  the  rail. 
Yas  suh,  I'll  tell  the  waitin'  world  they 


130  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

flon't  neither  one  of  'em  onderstan'  the  leas' 
particle  'bout  nigger  actions  an'  nigger  de- 
potemint." 

I  must  Ve  said  it  out  loud  without  think 
ing,  because  right  alongside  me  somebody 
speaks  up  and  says : 

"What  do  you  know  about  this  business?" 

I  turns  my  head  and  looks,  and  it's  that 
there  quiet  little  man  with  the  big  glasses 
on,  name  of  Mr.  Simons. 

I  says  to  him,  I  says : 

"I  don't  know  nothin'  'bout  this  yere  bus'- 
ness,  but  I  does  know  somethin'  'bout  bein' 
cullid,  seein'  ez  I  is  one  myse'f ." 

He  sort  of  squints  up  his  eyes  like  he's 
got  an  idea.  He  says : 

"Could  you  take  the  director's  place  there 
and  show  that  man  how  to  get  through  with 
his  scene?" 

"Who,  boss,  me?"  I  says.  "No  suhl  I 
mebbe  mout  could  tek  his  place  pervidin' 
w'ite  folkses  didn't  mind  havin'  me  th'owin' 
awders  at  'em,  but  even  so,  I  couldn't  never 
plant  the  right  idees  in  'at  other  gen'el- 
man's  mind." 

"Why  not?"  he  says. 


Movie-Land         131 

"  'Cause  it's  plain  to  me,"  I  says,  "  'at  in 
the  fust  place  he  ain't  got  no  notion  cz  to 
how  a  black  boy  would  carry  hissc'f  whilst 
waitin'  on  a  table.  'Scuse  me  fur  sayin'  so 
ef  he's  a  friend  of  yours,  but  tha's  the  facts 
of  the  case,  boss— the  feelin's  ain't  thar." 

"All  right,"  he  says,  "then  could  you  play 
the  waiter's  part  yourself?" 

"Well  suh,"  I  says,  "mebbe  I  could  ef 
they  wouldn't  'spect  me  to  act  lak  a  actor 
but  just  'lowed  me  to  act  lak  a  human  bein7. 
I  ain't  never  done  no  actin',"  I  says,  "but  I 
been  a  human  bein'  fur  ez  fur  back  ez  I  kin 
remember." 

"You've  got  it!"  he  says.  "What  this 
business  needs  in  it  is  fewer  people  trying 
to  act  and  more  people  willing  to  behave 
like  human  beings.  How  would  you  like 
to  put  on  the  jacket  and  the  apron  that  man 
is  wearing  and  see  if  you  could  get  away 
with  the  job  he's  trying  to  do?" 

"Ef  'twould  be  a  favor  to  you — yas,  suh," 
I  says.  "But  I'm  skeered  the  directin' 
gen'elman  mout  object." 

"I  think  possibly  I  could  fix  that,"  he 


132  /.  Pomdexterj  Colored 

says.  "I  happen  to  be  the  owner  of  this 
plant.  I'll  go  speak  to  him." 

"Hole  on,"  I  says,  "ef  you  please,  suh. 
The  onliest  way  I  could  do  it,"  I  says, 
"would  be  fur  you  to  tell  me  jest  whut  you 
wanted  done  an'  'en  you'd  have  to  mek  all 
hands  stand  back  an'  keep  quiet  whilst  I 
wuz  tryin'  to  do  it.  It  sho',"  I  says,  "would 
git  me  all  razzle-dazzled  to  have  some 
gen'elman  yellin'  at  me  th'ough  'at  mega- 
phome  ever'  half  secont  or  so." 

"There's  another  idea  that's  worth  ex 
perimenting  with,"  he  says.  "I've  thought 
the  same  thing  myself  before  now.  You 
stay  right  here  a  minute." 

Well,  to  make  a  long  story  no  longer,  he 
goes  over  and  whispers  something  to  the 
director  and  first-off  the  director  he  shakes 
his  head  like  he's  dead  set  against  the  prop 
osition  but  Mr.  Simons  keeps  on  arguing 
with  him  and  after  a  little  bit  the  director 
flings  up  both  hands  sort  of  despairful  and 
goes  over  and  sets  down  at  a  little  table, 
looking  very  sulky.  Then,  Mr.  Simons  he 
tells  the  blacked-up  man  to  take  off  his 
apron  and  his  jacket  and  tells  me  to  put 


Movie-Land         133 

'em  on  me  and  then  he  tells  me  very  slow 
just  what  he  wants  me  to  do,  but  he  says  I'm 
to  do  it  my  own  way  and  if,  as  I  goes  along, 
I  thinks  of  anything  else  which  a  real  col 
ored  waiter  would  do  under  such-like  cir 
cumstances,  why,  I'm  to  stick  that  in,  too. 

"Try  to  forget  that  it's  all  pretending," 
he  says,  "and  try  to  forget  that  there's  a 
camera  grinding  in  front  of  you.  Just  re 
member  that  you're  a  waiter  in  a  cheap 
dump  serving  a  couple  of  young  people 
that  have  run  away  from  home  to  be  mar 
ried  and  are  in  a  hurry  to  get  something  to 
eat.  Try  to  register  your  expectations  of 
getting  a  nice  big  tip  from  the  young  fel 
low.  And  when  you  slip  the  girl  the  note 
that  '11  tip  her  off  to  the  fact  that  her  old 
sweetheart  is  waiting  outside  and  wants  to 
see  her,  you  want  to  make  sure  that  the  man 
at  the  table  with  her  can't  see  you,  but  that 
people  sitting  out  in  the  audience  watch 
ing  the  show  will  see  the  note  pass.  Get 
me?  We  won't  have  any  rehearsals — too 
much  preliminary  stuff  might  make  you 
self-conscious.  I'll  have  'em  start  shooting 


134  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

Just  as  soon  as  you  come  on.  Now  go  to 
it!" 

Which  I  does  it  all  according  to  orders. 
I  mustVe  gave  utter  satisfaction,  too,  be 
cause  when  we  gets  through,  everybody  set 
ting  round  claps  their  hands  and  applauses 
me  same  as  if  they  was  at  a  regular  show — 
that  is,  everybody  does  so  except  the  di 
rector;  which  he  continues  to  act  peevish. 
This  here  Mr.  Simons  he  goes  yet  farther 
than  applausing;  he  comes  over  to  me  and 
he  says  I  has  put  him  under  obligations  to 
me  by  helping  him  out  and  if  ever  I  feels 
like  doing  some  more  moving-picture  work 
just  to  call  on  him  either  down  at  his  office 
or  up  here  at  the  studios,  because  he  says 
there  ain't  no  telling  when  he  may  have  an 
other  show  with  a  part  in  it  for  a  smart 
spry  colored  person.  And  with  that  he  slips 
his  card  into  my  hand  and  along  with  it  a 
ten  dollar  bill,  which  that  is  more  money 
than  ever  I  has  earned  before  in  my  whole 
life  for  a  light  job,  let  alone  just  acting 
natural  for  about  five  or  six  minutes. 

He  starts  on  away  then  but  suddenly  he 
turns  round  like  a  notion  had  just  hit  him 


Movie-Land         135 

between  the  eyes  and  he  comes  back  to  me 
and  says  he  wants  to  speak  to  me  a  minute 
and  I  follows  him  back  around  a  corner 
where  nobody  won't  be  liable  to  hear  us. 

"I  want  to  ask  you  about  something,"  he 
says,  when  we  arrives  there.  "You  seem  to 
be  a  person  who  keeps  his  eyes  and  his  ears 
open;  besides,  you're  colored  yourself  and 
what  I  need  here,  I  think,  is  somebody  who 
can  look  at  a  proposition  from  a  colored 
man's  slant  rather  than  from  a  white  man's. 
And  finally,  my  guess  is  that  you  haven't 
been  away  from  your  own  part  of  the  coun 
try  very  long  and  that  probably  means  you 
haven't  lost  your  perspective.  Do  you  get 
my  drift?" 

I  wouldn't  know  a  perspective  if  I  met 
up  with  one  in  the  big  road  but  I  ain't  aim 
ing  to  expose  my  ignorance  before  this 
strange  gentleman.  I  tries  to  look  like  I'm 
mighty  glad  that  I've  been  so  careful  as  not 
to  lose  it  and  I  tells  him  yes,  sir,  I  gets  his 
drift. 

"Good,"  he  says.  "Well,  making  it 
snappy,  the  idea  is  just  this:  New  York 
City  is  full  of  colored  actors — not  merely 


136  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

singers  and  dancers  but  real  artists,  some  of 
'em,  who  can  act  and  are  especially  strong 
in  comedy.  That's  point  number  one.  In 
nearly  every  good-sized  town  in  this  coun 
try,  North  and  South,  there's  at  least  one 
moving-picture  house  catering  to  your 
people.  That's  point  number  two.  But 
day  after  day  and  night  after  night  those 
patrons  see  nothing  but  pictures  written  by 
white  people,  directed  by  white  men,  and 
acted  by  white  people.  That's  point  num 
ber  three.  Now,  I've  been  carrying  round 
a  scheme  in  my  head  for  quite  awhile — a 
scheme  to  try  the  experiment  of  turning  out 
a  line  of  two-reelers,  say,  done  by  colored 
casts,  and  selling  them,  if  I  can,  to  these 
three  or  four  thousand  houses  run  by  col 
ored  people  and  playing  to  colored 
people.  I've  got  the  studio  right  here — 
I've  got  the  organization  and  the  equip 
ment.  And  at  any  time  I  need  it  I  can  put 
my  hand  on  plenty  of  acting  material — 
colored  people,  I  mean — who'll  only  need 
a  little  training  to  make  'em  fit  for  my  pur 
poses.  Some  of  'em  have  already  had  some 
training — as  extras  around  the  local  plants. 


Movie- Land         137 

As  I  dope  it  out,  if  I  can  produce  pictures 
which  will  appeal  particularly  to  your 
people  I'll  have  a  steady  market  through 
the  big  exchanges;  because,  if  I  know  any 
thing  about  the  tastes  of  the  general  public, 
white  people  will  enjoy  all-colored  come 
dies — if  they're  done  right — almost  as  much 
as  colored  people  will.  And  that's  point 
number  four.  Now  then,  give  me  your  idea 
of  the  value  of  the  notion?" 

"Mister,"  I  says,  "I  kin  only  tell  you  how 
one  cullid  pusson  feels,  w'ich  'at  one  is  me : 
The  way  I  looks  at  it,  you  ain't  needin'  to 
bother  much  'bout  fancy  scenery  an'  special 
fixin's — wid  a  crowd  of  niggers  the  mainest 
p'int  will  be  the  actin'.  The  actin'  part  is 
whar  you  can't  fool  'em.  An',"  I  says,  "ef 
you  kin  git  holt  of  a  crowd  of  cullid  actors 
w'ich  is  willin'  to  ack  lak  the  sho'-nuff  ole- 
time  cullid  an'  not  lak  onbleached  imita 
tions  of  w'ite  folks,  it  seems  lak  to  me  the 
rest  of  it  oughter  be  plum'  easy.  Mostly 
I'd  mek  the  pitchers  comical,  ef  I  wuz  you. 
You  kin  do  'at  an',  still  not  hurt  nobody's 
feelin's,  w'ite  nur  black.  Ef  you  wants  to 
perduce  a  piece  showin'  a  lot  of  niggers 


138  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

gittin'  skinned,  let  it  be  another  nigger 
w'ich  skins  'em.  Then,"  I  says,  "w'en,  at 
the  last,  they  gits  even  wid  him  it'll  still  be 
nigger  ag'inst  nigger.  An'  ef,  once't  in 
awhile,  you  meks  a  kind  of  a  serious-lak 
pitcher,  showin',  mebbe,  how  the  race  is 
a-strivin'  to  git  ahaid  in  the  world,  'at  ought 
to  fetch  these  yere  new-issue  cullid  folks 
w'ich,"  I  says,  "is  seemin'ly  become  so 
plentiful  up  Nawth.  But  mainly  I'd  stick 
to  the  laffin'  line  ef  I  wuz  you — niggers  is 
one  kind  of  folks  in  'is  country  w'ich  they 
ain't  afeard  to  laff.  An'  whutever  else  you 
does,"  I  says,  "don't  mess  wid  no  race  prob 
lem.  We  gits  mouty  tired,  sometimes,  of 
bein'  treated  the  way  we  of 'en  is.  Tek  my 
own  case,"  I  says.  "I  ain't  no  problem,  I's 
a  pusson,  I  craves  to  be  so  reguarded.  An' 
tha's  the  way  I  alluz  is  been  reguarded  by 
my  own  kind  of  w'ite  folks  down  whar  I 
comes  f  rum,"  I  says. 

"Say,"  he  says,  when  I  gets  through  say 
ing  this,  "I  think  you've  earned  another  ten- 
spot."  And  with  that  he  shoves  one  more  of 
them  desirable  bills  at  me;  which  he  don't 
have  no  real  struggle  inducing  me  to  take 


Movie-Land        139 

it.  Because  I'm  a  powerful  easy  person  to 
control  in  such  matters.  And  always  has 
been,  from  a  child  up. 

"I  was  practically  convinced  all  along 
that  the  proposition  was  worth  trying,"  he 
says.  "What  you  say  helps  to  confirm  a 
judgment  I  already  had.  Well,  don't  for 
get  about  coming  to  see  me  if  you  want  work 
in  my  line — there  may  be  plenty  of  it  if  this 
thing  pans  out."  And  he  shakes  hands  with 
me  again  and  walks  off. 

Right  after  that  a  young  white  gentleman 
he  comes  looking  for  me  to  take  down  my 
full  entitlements  and  he  says  I  will  be  hon 
orably  mentioned  by  name  on  the  program 
of  the  picture  which  they  now  is  making, 
when  it's  done.  And  Mr.  Dallas  he  tells 
me  I  can  take  the  rest  of  the  day  off  for  to 
celebrate  having  broke  into  the  movies. 


140  /.  Poindexter,  Colored 


CHAPTER  X 

Black  Belt 

BUT  I  figures  I  has  got  something  bet 
ter  to  do  than  just  to  be  gallivanting 
to  and  fro  on  a  frolic.    A  notion  has 
busted  out  insides  of  my  brains.    So  right 
off  I  puts  off  across  town  for  West  One- 
Hundred   and  Thirty-fifth   Street  hoping 
for  to  find  one  U.  S.  G.  Petty,  Colored. 

Some  time  back,  as  I  remembers,  I  made 
brief  mention  about  having  affiliated  my 
self  into  the  Pastime  Colored  Pleasure  and 
Recreation  Club,  Inc.  Only,  the  last  word 
— Inc. — is  not  usually  spoke  when  you  is 
naming  the  club,  by  reason  of  its  sounding 
so  much  like  a  personal  reflection  upon  the 
prevailing  complexion  of  some  of  the  mem 
bers.  Still,  that  is  the  way  it  is  wrote  out 
on  the  letter-heads  and  the  initiation  blanks. 
I  has  belonged  for  going  on  more  than  a 
month  now  and  I  spends  much  of  my  spare 


Black  Belt  141 

time  in  the  club-rooms.  I  feels  more  com 
fortable  among  my  fellow-affiliators  than  I 
does  any  place  else  in  this  town.  Looking 
back  on  it  Fin  convinced  'twas  up  there  I 
first  began  to  get  shut  of  the  grievous  home- 
stick  pangs  which  afflicted  me  so  sorefully 
following  after  our  advent  into  these  parts. 
Up  to  now  I  has  not  spoke  of  my  being 
homesick  because  it  seemed  like  to  me  the 
mainest  job  was  to  set  down  what  come  to 
pass  without  paying  much  heed  to  private 
sensations  upon  the  part  of  the  scribe 
thereof,  but,  if  the  truth  must  now  be  con 
fessed,  I  oftentimes  was  mighty  nigh  com 
pletely  overcome  by  my  sufferings  from 
the  same  during  them  opening  weeks  of  the 
present  sojourn. 

At  the  beginning  I  used  to  get  so  tired, 
night-times,  tramping  about  streets  which 
was  full  of  utter  strangers  and  not  never 
speaking  a  word  to  nobody  nor  seeing  a 
friendly  face,  that  I  liked  to  died,  dad- 
blame  if  I  didn't!  If  I  stood  still  they'd  run 
right  on  over  me  and  if  I  walked  on  I  didn't 
have  nowheres  to  go  and  I'd  be  so  exhausti- 
fied  from  looking  at  sights  all  by  myself 


142   /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

that  I'd  get  to  wishing  I'd  never  see  an 
other  sight  again  as  long  as  I  lived,  without 
I  had  somebody  I  knowed  along  with  me  to 
help  me  look  at  it.  And  then  I'd  come 
morosing  on  back  to  the  apartment  and 
probably  Mr.  Dallas  he'd  be  out  and  no 
body  there  but  that  there  slick-headed  Japa- 
nee  boy.  I  tried  sociable  talk  with  him 
once  or  twice  but  you  really  don't  derive  no 
great  amount  of  nourishment  from  talking 
with  somebody  which  thinks  language  is 
sucking  your  breath  in  through  your  front 
teeth  and  once  in  awhile  grinning  like  one 
of  these  here  pumpkin  Jack-mer-lanterns. 
So  I  soon  learned  the  lesson  of  just  letting 
him  be. 

I'd  go  on  back  to  my  room  and  take  off 
my  shoes  for  to  ease  my  aching  feet;  but 
whilst  taking  off  your  shoes  is  good  for  your 
feet  it  don't  help  the  ache  in  your  soul  none. 
I'd  set  at  the  window  and  look  out  on  them 
millions  and  millions  of  lights,  all  winking 
and  blinking  at  me  like  hostile  bright  eyes, 
and  away  down  below  me  in  the  street  I 
could  hear  old  automobile  horns  blatting 
like  lost  ghosts,  and  every  now  and  then 


Black  Belt  143 

there'd  rise  up  to  my  ears  a  sort  of  a  rumble 
and  a  roar,  like  as  if  New  York  City  was 
having  indigestion  pains;  and  I'll  say  it 
positively  was  lonesome.  I  could  shut  my 
eyes  and  see  my  own  home-town  with  the 
shade  trees  leaning  down  towards  the  side 
walks  like  they  was  interested  in  what  went 
on  underneath  them,  and  I  could  hear  the 
voices  of  the  neighbors,  both  white  and 
black,  calling  back  and  forth  to  one  another 
and  I  could  seem  to  smell  frying  cat-fish 
spitting  in  the  skillet  at  old  Uncle  Isom 
Woolfolk's  hot  snack-stand  down  back  of 
the  Market  House,  and  I  also  could  smell 
that  damp,  soothing  kind  of  a  smell  which 
it  rolls  in  off  the  river  on  a  warm  night  and 
then — oh,  my  Blessed  Maker  1 — something 
would  hurt  me  like  having  the  misery  in 
your  side. 

That's  the  way  it  was  very  frequent  at  the 
outsetting.  But  pretty  soon  I  gets  ac 
quainted  with  a  couple  of  colored  boys 
which  works  in  the  apartment  house  next 
door  to  ours — not  West  Indians  but  regula 
tion  colored  boys,  one  being  from  Macon, 
Georgia,  and  one  from  Memphis,  Tennes- 


144    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

see — and  they  takes  to  escorting  me  round 
with  'em  at  night,  mainly  in  what  the  white 
folks  calls  the  Harlem  Black  Belt.  Fussing 
back  and  forth,  thuslike,  I  makes  yet  more 
acquaintances  and  then — bam! — all  at  once 
there's  a  quick  change  in  me  and  I  ain't 
so  choked  up  with  lonesomeness  like  I  was. 
All  of  a  sudden  my  having  lived  heretofore 
always  down  in  Kentucky  has  become  to  me 
just  a  kind  of  a  far-off  dream  and  it's  al 
most  like  as  if  I  had  been  a  New  York  resi- 
denter  for  years  past.  'Specially  does  I  feel 
so  when  I  goes  up  to  the  Pastime  Club; 
which  I  joins  it  by  invitation  about  a  month 
ago  and  is  now  already  being  talked  of  for 
one  of  the  honory  offices  at  the  next  annual 
election  which  will  come  along  in  about 
five  or  six  weeks  from  now. 

I  finds  that  the  most  of  my  race  up  here 
aims  to  copy  their  actions  after  white  folks 
when  they  is  showing  themselves  off  in  pub 
lic.  They  is  forever  trying  to  talk  like 
whites  and  trying  to  appear  deeply  onin- 
terested  in  passing  things,  the  same  as  some 
white  folks  does,  and  even  trying  to  think 
like  whites,  I  expect.  But  when  they  gets 


Black  Belt  145 

off  amongst  themselves  their  natural  feel 
ings  comes  out  on  'em  and  the  true  colored- 
ism  breaks  forth  and  they  cuts  loose  and  en 
joys  themselves  regardless.  That's  the  way 
it  is  behind  the  closed  doors  of  our  club- 
rooms.  Also,  there's  suitable  games  and  in 
door  sports  such  as  coon-can  and  two-bit- 
limit  poker  with  the  joker  running  wild  and 
a  round  of  rumdoodlums  after  every  face- 
full  ;  and  when  hunger  gnaws  at  you  there's 
a  Chinee  restaurant  right  handy  by,  which 
it  caters  'specially  to  the  colored  trade. 
Here  is  where  I  first  meets  a  crock  of  this 
here  chop  suey  face  to  face;  which  it  may 
be  a  Chinee  dish  but  certainly  is  got  a  kind 
of  an  African  flavor  to  it.  If  you  can't  get 
a  mess  of  cow-peas  and  some  real  corn- 
pones  and  maybe  half  a  fried  young  spring 
chicken  with  an  abundance  of  gravy,  I 
don't  know  of  nothing  which  makes  a  more 
desirable  light  snack  between  meals  than 
about  fifty  cents  worth  of  chop  suey  with  a 
double  order  of  boiled  rice  on  the  side  and 
some  of  that  there  greasy  black  Chinee 
sauce  to  sop  it  in. 

It's  one  time  in  the  front  room  of  the  club 


146    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

that  I  first  takes  special  notice  of  this  here 
U.  S.  G.  Petty,  which  he  is  the  same  per 
son  I  goes  a-seeking  upon  leaving  the  stu 
dios  on  this  day  in  question.  The  way  he 
comes  to  bring  himself  to  my  attention  is 
this  way:  One  night  five  or  six  of  us  Pas- 
timers  in  good  standing  is  setting  round  not 
doing  nothing  in  particular,  but  just  setting, 
when  talk  arises  concerning  of  Gabriel,  the 
Black  Prophet  of  Abyssinia,  which  his  name 
is  now  on  everybody's  tongue,  more  or  less. 
It  seems  that  the  Black  Prophet  come 
a-projecting  himself  onto  the  local  scene  last 
spring,  him  claiming  to  hail  from  a  far-off 
latitude  called  Abyssinia,  and  immediately 
he  creates  a  big  to-do,  which  is  only  to  be 
expected  considering  of  his  general  aspect. 
In  the  first  place,  he's  a  powerful  orator  and 
just  overflowing  with  noble  large  words. 
In  the  second  place,  he's  a  great  big  over 
bearing-looking  map  and  wearing  at  all 
times  a  flowing  garment  of  purple  like  the 
night-shirt  of  a  king,  and  instead  of  having 
a  hat  on  he's  got  his  head  all  bandaged  up 
in  many  silken  folds  like  he's  got  scalp- 
trouble.  Naturally,  folks  turns  out  to  look 


Black  Belt  147 

at  him;  but  language  and  curious  clothes 
is  not  the  sole  things  by  which  he  recom 
mends  himself.  He's  got  something  even 
more  compelling  to  the  colored  mind  than 
what  these  two  is — he's  had  a  glorious  vi 
sion,  so  he  states,  and  he  craves  for  to  tell 
about  it  on  all  occasions  where  folks  '11  give 
heed;  which  they  freely  does,  because  he 
certainly  can  explain  the  whyfores  and 
'numerate  the  whereases  and  show  the 
whereins.  But  showing  wherein  is  his 
main  hold. 

From  the  way  he  tells  it,  he  laid  down 
one  night  in  his  native  country  for  to  sleep 
and  whilst  he  slept  an  angel  appeared  be 
fore  him  in  a  dream  bearing  a  flaming  scroll 
and  a  golden  sword,  and  the  angel  anointed 
his  brows  with  the  oils  of  understanding 
and  wiped  the  scales  of  blindness  from  off 
his  eyes  and  smeared  his  lips  with  the  salves 
of  eloquence — altogether,  it  seem  like  the 
angel  must  a-been  working  on  him  half  the 
night  getting  him  greased-up  to  suit.  And 
along  towards  morning  the  'command  is 
laid  on  him  to  go  forth  into  the  world  and 
deliver  his  race  from  bondage  in  every 


148    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

hemisphere  there  is.  So  it  transpires  that 
he  takes  his  foot  in  his  hand  and  he  comes 
on  across  the  seas  over  to  these  here  United 
States  of  North  America  and  starts  in  his 
ministrations  in  New  York.  Leastwise, 
that  is  the  account  as  he  lays  it  down ;  which 
he  calls  it  an  inspired  prophecy  from  On 
High  but  it  sounds  more  to  me  like  an  in 
spired  real-estate  scheme,  because  the  plan 
as  he  preaches  it  is  that  all  us  black  folks 
everywhere  must  straight-away  rise  our 
selves  up  and  follow  after  him,  which  he 
will  then  lead  us  back  to  our  original  own 
country  of  Affika  where  he  will  cause  all 
the  white  folks  which  has  settled  there  to 
pull  out  and  leave  us  in  sole  charge  for  to 
rule  the  state  and  run  our  own  government 
and  be  a  free  and  independent  people  from 
thenceforth  on  forever.  So  you  pays  down 
so  much  for  to  join  and  so  much  every 
month  in  dues  and  soon  then — to  hear  him 
tell  it — you  will  be  happy  on  your  way 
across  the  ocean  to  find  your  haven  in  the 
Promised  Land. 

But   not   me!      I    ain't   lost   no   haven. 
Moreover,  if  ever  anybody  does  promise  me 


Black  Belt  149 

one-such  I  ain't  aiming  to  go  seeking  after 
it  under  the  guidnance  of  a  dark  stranger 
which  he  ain't  no  credentials  for  to  endorse 
him  in  my  eyes,  excusing  it's  a  purple  silk 
nightshirt  and  a  tale  about  him  having 
been  lubricated  all  over  with  a  lot  of  differ 
ent  kinds  of  fancy  ointments  by  an  Abyssin 
ian  angel.  No  sir,  if  I  has  to  do  traveling  in 
extreme  foreign-off  parts  I'll  go  along  with 
some  of  my  own  white  folks  which  I  can  put 
trust  in  their  words  and  dependence  on  their 
acts.  And,  finally,  the  idea  of  my  returning 
to  Affika  does  not  seem  to  appeal  to  me  in 
no  way  nor  at  no  time  whatsomever. 
What's  the  use  of  returning  to  a  place 
where  you  ain't  never  been?  As  I  says  to 
myself  the  first  time  the  notion  is  expounded 
to  me,  I  says : 

"I  ain't  frum  Affika,  I  is  frum  Paducah, 
Kintucky.  Some  of  my  former  folks  may 
a-hailed  frum  there — leas'wise,  tha's  the 
common  rumor — but  the  Poindexter  f  ambly 
is  been  away  so  long  it  seems  lak  I  ain't  in 
herited  the  taste  to  go  traipsin'  back.  Mo'- 
over,  ef  whut  I  heahs  'bout  it  is  correc',  Af 
fika:  is  full  of  alligators  an'  lions  an'  onrec- 


150    /.  Poin dexter,  Colored 

onciled  Bengal  tigers  an'  man-eatin'  can 
nibals,  w'ich  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  but 
whut  they  all  of  'em  'specially  favors  the 
dark  meat.  An'  yere  I  is,  a  pernounced 
brunette!  So,  w'en  they  starts  makin'  up 
the  excursion  list  they  kin  kin'ly  leave  my 
name  off,  'cause  I  'spects  to  be  very  busily 
engaged  stayin'  right  whar  I  dog-goned 
is!" 


Afric  Shores          151 


CHAPTER  XI 

Afric  Shores 

THUS  is  what  I  says  to  myself,  very 
first  crack  out  of  the  box  and  I  sub 
sequent  sees  no  reason  for  to  change 
my  views.  But  this  night  at  the  Pastime 
when  the  subject  is  brung  forward  for  dis 
cussion,  I  just  lurks  in  a  corner,  not  saying 
nothing  myself  but  doing  some  very  vigor 
ous  listening.  Being  a  new  member,  the 
way  I  is,  I  prefers  not  to  declare  myself  in 
at  the  go-off  but  just  to  sort  of  hang  back 
and  catch  the  general  drift  of  the  old  heads 
before  I  commits  myself. 

Regardless  of  your  private  convictions  it 
don't  hurt  you  none,  sometimes,  to  throw  in 
with  the  majority.  Traveling  with  the  cur 
rent  instead  of  against  it,  you  maybe  is  not 
so  prominent  but  you  gets  fewer  bumps 
across  your  head.  A  minnow  sliding  down 
stream  with  a  passel  of  other  minnows 


152    /.  Poindtxter,  Colored 

stands  a  heap  better  chance  of  leading  a 
pleasant  life  than  if  he  strives  for  to  con- 
spicious  himself  by  swimming  upstream  all 
by  himself.  Old  Brother  Channel  Cat  is 
liable  to  come  sauntering  down  past  the 
towhead  and  see  him  going  along  there  all 
alone,  and  open  wide  that  there  big  mouth 
of  his  and  then,  little  Mr.  Minnow,  I  asks 
you,  where  is  you? 

So  I  sets  and  hearkens  to  the  pow-wow- 
ing.  It  seems  that  two  or  three  present  has 
been  swept  right  off  their  feet  by  the  mast 
erful  preachments  of  this  here  Gabriel  the 
Black  Prophet.  They  is  all  organized  up 
for  to  accept  him  as  the  chosen  apostle  of 
the  colored  race.  It  looks  like  they  can't 
hardly  wait  for  the  blessed  day  to  come 
when  they'll  pull  out  with  him.  They 
'lows  a  lot  of  these  here  overbearing  white 
folks  is  going  to  feel  mighty  funny  the 
morning  they  wakes  up  and  finds  that  all 
the  black  folks  is  done  up  and  gone  from 
'em  and  there  ain't  nobody  left  for  to  pack 
their  heavy  burdens  for  'em  and  wait  on 
'em,  without  they  turns  in  and  does  it  them 
selves.  They  says  a  lot  more  like  that. 


Afric  Shores          153 

And  pretty  soon  the  old  camp-meeting  tone 
comes  creeping  into  their  voices  and  their 
eyes  starts  shining  like  they  was  repentant 
sinners  gathered  at  the  mourners'  bench 
and  they  begins  to  sort  of  sing  their  words 
and  generally  work  themselves  up  into  a 
state  of  grace. 

Right  about  then  this  here  U.  S.  G.  Petty, 
which  they  calls  him  'Lisses  for  short, 
speaks  up.  Until  now  he  has  been  reared 
back  in  his  chair  listening,  the  same  as  I  is. 
But  now  he  opens  up  and  his  words  hits 
them  enthusiastic  ones  like  a  dipperful  of 
ice-water  throwed  in  their  faces. 

He  says  to  'em,  he  says : 

"Wen  does  all  you  niggers  'at's  so  home 
sick  fur  the  sight  of  the  dear  Affikin  shore 
aims  to  start  on  yore  jubilatin'  way?  I  is 
heared  a  lot  tonight  an'  other  times,  too, 
'bout  this  yere  journey.  I  is  heared  it  called 
a  crusade  an'  a  pilgrimage  an'  a  whole 
passel  of  other  fancy  names.  But  so  fur, 
nobody  ain't  confided  to  me  the  details  of 
the  departure." 

"The  fust  batch  goes  ez  soon  ez  the  fust 
boat  is  ready,"  says  one  of  the  true  believ- 


154    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

ers,  name  of  Oscar  Jordan.  "An'  the  rest 
will  follow  wid  rejoicin'  on  the  other  boats 
of  the  fleet,  ez  they  is  made  ready." 

"Well,  me,  I  ain't  seen  hair  nur  hide  of 
one  boat  yit,"  says  'Lisses,  "let  alone  it's  a 
whole  fleet." 

"But  ain't  you  seen  the  pitcher  of  her  in 
the  litrychure  w'ich  the  Black  Prophet  give 
out?"  says  Oscar. 

"I  has,  Brother,"  says  'Lisses;  "I  suttinly 
has.  I  also  has  seen  pitchers  of  the  late 
Kaiser  Ex-Wilhellum  of  Germany,  but 
that  ain't  no  sign  I  'spects  to  meet  him  strol- 
lin'  up  Lenox  Avenue  some  pleasant  mawn- 
in'  this  comin'  week." 

"Yas,  but  the  bindin'  paymints  is  done 
been  made  on  the  fust  ship,"  says  Oscar. 
"The  Grand  Treasurer,  w'ich  he  is  the 
Black  Prophet's  brother-in-law  by  mar 
riage,  he  announce'  the  full  perticulars  at 
the  las'  monster  mass  meetin'.  He  specify 
she  is  to  have  a  cullid  brass-band  on  bode 
an'  a  cullid  string-band  an'  a  cullid  crew  an' 
a  cullid  cap'n  an' " 

"Uh  huh!"  says  'Lisses,  "A  cullid  cap'n, 
huh?  All  right,  boy,  you  kin  give  yore  con- 


Afric  Shores          155 

fidences  to  a  cullid  cap'n  ef  you's  a-mind  to. 
But,  speakin'  ez  yore  friend  an'  well-wisher 
I  should  advise  you  at  the  same  time  w'en 
you  is  pickin'  out  your  fav'rit'  cullid  cap'n 
'at  you  lakwise  also  picks  out  yore  fav'rit' 
flower  fur  display  at  the  memorial  services 
in  case  of  a  storm  comin'  up  on  the  way 
acrost  the  high  seas.  'Cause,"  he  says,  "it 
stands  to  reason  the  higher  them  seas  is  the 
deeper  they  is;  an'  ef  you  gits  yo'se'f 
drownded  out  yonder  it'll  be  a  tho'ough 
job.  Mind  you,"  he  says,  "I  ain't  sayin' 
nothin'  agin  my  own  race  so  long  ez  they  re 
mains  whar  they  natchelly  belongs,  w'ich  is 
on  the  solid  ground.  But  ef  I'm  goin'  jour 
ney  acros't  the  broad  Newlantic  Ocean  I 
craves  me  a  w'ite  cap'n — yas,  an'  a  w'ite 
crew,  too." 

One  or  two,  including  this  here  Oscar, 
tries  to  break  in  on  him  but  he  keeps  right 
on.  He  says  to  'em,  he  says : 

"I  wonder  is  you  Ole  Home-Weekers 
been  figgerin'  out  how  you  is  goin'  git  con 
trol  of  yore  beloved  native  AfEka  w'en  you 
arrives  safely  tharin?  Seems  lak  to  me  tha's 
a  p'int  w'ich  you  better  be  payin'  a  right 


156    /.  P&indexter)  Colored 

smart  attention  to  it  befo'hand.  'Cause, 
frum  whut  I  kin  gather,  w'ite  folks  is  done 
already  laid  claim  to  the  most  part  of  Af- 
fika  w'ich  is  fit  fur  a  Christian  to  live  in. 
I  bet  you  wharever  they  is  a  diamond-mine 
or  a  gold  diggings  or  an  ivory-mine  or  any- 
thin7  wuth  havin',  you'll  find  a  bunch  of 
w'ite  men  roostin'  close't  by,  wid  'Posted' 
signs  up  on  every  hand.  Whut  does  you  aim 
to  do  'en?" 

"They  ain't  got  no  right  fur  to  be  thar  in 
the  fust  place,"  says  Oscar.  "The  Prophet 
done  oratate  fully  'bout  that.  Didn't  Af- 
fika  belong  to  us  black  folkses  to  begin  wid? 
Has  we  ever  deeded  it  away?  No,  that  we 
ain't!  Then  it's  still  our'n,  ain't  it?  So, 
therefo',  we  goes  back  in  force  an'  th'ough 
our  chosen  leaders  we  demands  'at  these 
yere  trespassers  re-hands  it  back  over  to  its 
rightful  owners,  w'ich,"  he  says,  "tha's  us." 

"Even  so,"  says  'Lisses,  "even  so.  You 
lands  an'  you  demands — an'  'en  whut? 
This  yere  country  belonged  once't  upon  a 
time  to  the  Injuns.  An'  w'ite  folks  come 
along  an'  chiseled  'em  out  of  it,  didn't  they? 
They  shore  did  so !  But  I  ain't  heared  'bout 


Afric  Shores         157 

no  gin'el  movemint  in  favor  of  turnin'  it 
back  over  ag'in  to  the  Injuns.  The  Injuns 
mout  feel  that-a-way  but  I  ain't  'spectin'  to 
see  many  w'ite  folkses  votin'  in  favor  of  it. 
"Lis'sen:  Once't  you  let  w'ite  folks  git 
they  feets  rooted  in  the  ground  an'  they 
stays  fast,  reguardless  of  whut  the  former 
perprietors  may  think  'bout  it.  W'ite  folks 
in  gin'el  is  very  funny  that  way  an'  more 
'specially  ef  they  is  Angler-Saxons.  I  don't 
know,  myse'f,  whar  this  yere  Angler-Sax 
ony  is.  I  done  look  fur  it  on  the  map  an' 
'tain't  thar.  I  reckin  so  many  Angler-Sax 
ons  must  a-moved  off  to  other  parts  of  the 
world  seekin'  whut  they  could  confisticate 
unto  theyselves  'at  the  'riginal  country  they 
hailed  frum  has  done  vanish'.  Jedgin'  by 
they  names,  some  of  'em  must  a-been  Scotch 
an'  some  of  'em  must  a-been  Irish  and  plen 
ty  more  of  'em  must  a-been  English ;  but  no 
matter  whut  they  names  is,  they  is  all  alak 
in  one  respec':  an'  tha's  clingin'  fast  to  all 
the  onimproved  real-estate  w'ich  they  gits 
they  hands  on.  I  knows,  'cause  I  wuz  born 
and  brung  up  'mongst  'em  down  in  No'th 
Ca'lina.  An'  they  is  still  a  right  smart 


158    /.  Poindexter*  Colored 

sprinklin'  of  'em  lef  'round  these  yere 
No'the'n  parts,  too.  You  jest  try  to  mek 
'em  give  up  somethin'  w'ich  they  desires  fur 
to  keep  on  keepin'  it,  an'  you'll  find  'em  a 
powerful  onhealthy  crowd  to  prank  wid. 
They's  a  heap  of  talk,"  he  says,  "  'bout  the 
other  races,  w'ich  is  pourin'  in  yere,  crowd- 
in'  'em  plum  out  of  Noo  Yawk  City  in  time, 
notwithstandin'  of  'em  havin'  been  amongst 
the  fust  settlers  yere.  But  lemme  tell  you 
somethin' :  Ef  they  wuzn'  but  two  of  them 
Angler-Saxons  lef  in  this  whole  town  I  bet 
you  one  of  'em  would  be  the  mayor  an'  the 
other  'd  be  the  chief  of  police.  Next  to 
holdin'  on  to  the  land,  runnin'  the  gov'mint 
is  the  most  f av'rit'  sport  they  follows  after. 
"An1,"  he  says,  "ef  'at  is  true  of  this  yere 
country,  you  tek  it  f  rum  me  it's  true  of  Af- 
fika.  Me,  I  looks  fur  a  lot  of  cullid  fun'els 
to  tek  place  befo'  you  has  yore  wish  'bout 
regainin'  yore  former  homestids  over  thar," 
he  says.  Then  his  tone  sort  of  changes. 
"But,"  he  says,  "I  has  jest  been  statin'  the 
argumints  on  the  No  side.  I  wants  to  be 
fair,  so  I  will  lakwise  'low  there's  somethin7 
to  be  said  on  yore  side,  too.  In  fact,"  he 


Afric  Shores          159 

says,  "ef  only  the  suitable  'rangemints  kin 
be  made  befo'hand,  I  aims  to  onlist  myse'f 
in  wid  the  movemint  an'  give  to  it,"  he 
says,  "my  most  hearties'  suppo't." 

That  seems  to  sort  of  take  'em  by  sur 
prise.  This  here  Oscar  Jordan,  being  the 
most  gabby  one,  is  the  first  to  get  over  his 
surprisement. 

"How  come  you  kin  feel  that  way,  'Lis- 
ses,"  he  says,  "w'en  fur  the  pas'  ten  minutes 
you  been  preachifyin'  agin  the  whole  no 
tion?  How  come  you  willin'  fur  to  remove 
yo'se'f  off  to  the  perposed  All-Affikin  Re 
public  ef  you  holds  them  views  w'ich  you 
jest  expound?" 

"Who,  me?"  says  'Lisses.  "You  got  me 
wrong  1  I  ain't  aimin'  to  remove  myse'f  no- 
whars.  I  is  mos'  comfor'ble  whar  I  is  at. 
No  suh,  whut  I  aims  to  do  is  to  'tach  my 
se'f  to  the  collector's  office  yere  at  home  an' 
handle  the  money-dues  ez  they  comes  a-rol- 
lin'  in  f  rum  the  rest  of  you  niggers.  That's 
goin'  be  me  an'  my  job — collectin'  an'  also 
disbursin' — 'specially  the  las'-named." 

I  rises  from  where  I  is  setting  and  I 
crosses  to  him  and  I  extends  to  him  the 


160   /.  Poindextef)  Colored 

right  hand  of  fellowship  and  I  says  to  him, 
I  says: 

"You,"  I  says,  "an*  me  bothl  I  nominates 
myse'f  to  he'p  you  wid  them  duties. 
Brother  Petty,"  I  says,  "you  speaks  words 
of  wisdom  w'ich  they  sounds  lak  my  own. 
Le's  us  two  promenade  fo'th  into  the  fresh 
air  of  the  evenin',"  I  says,  "an'  exchange 
mo'  views  on  the  subjects  of  the  day.  I 
feels,"  I  says,  "  'at  we  is  goin'  be  agreeable 
companions  one  to  the  other  an'  vice  or 


versa." 


So  from  that  hour  we  becomes  good 
friends  and  sees  quite  much  of  one  another. 
And  the  more  I  sees  of  him  the  better  the 
cut  of  his  jib  seems  to  suit  me.  He  follows 
after  cornet-playing  for  a  living.  He  plays 
in  the  orchestra  at  the  Colored  Crescent 
Vaudeville  Theatre  on  the  corner  below 
where  the  Pastime  Club  is,  so,  what  with 
him  being  in  the  profession  and  us  friends 
and  all,  I  thinks  of  him  the  next  minute 
after  this  big  idea  comes  to  me  up  at  the 
studio  and  that's  why  I  goes  seeking  for  him 
in  West  One-Hundred  and  Thirty-fifth 
Street;  which  without  much  trouble  I  finds 


Afric  Shores          161 

him.  I  takes  him  aside  and  I  starts  telling 
him  what  I  has  in  my  mind.  Before  I  has 
been  speechifying  to  him  more  than  a  min 
ute  I  can  tell  he's  getting  interested  and  he 
begs  me  for  to  continue.  And  when  I  gets 
through  he's  just  acclamatious  over  the  no 
tion  of  going  in  partners  with  me  on  the 
proposition.  So  we  spends  the  rest  of  the 
day  and  until  far  into  the  night  discussing 
the  thing  from  every  angle. 


162   /.  Pgindextef)  Colored 


CHAPTER  XII 

Business  Deals 

BRIGHT  and  early  next  morning, 
along  about  half  past  ten  o'clock, 
which  is  bright  and  early  for  New 
York,  I  is  at  Mr.  Simons'  offices  down  on 
Broadway.  I  sends  my  name  in  to  him  by 
a  white  boy  which  is  on  guard  in  an  out 
side  room  amongst  a  lot  of  gold  railings. 
In  lessen  no  time  at  all  the  word  comes 
back  that  I  is  to  walk  right  in.  I  walks  in 
and  I  finds  Mr.  Simons  setting  behind  the 
largest  desk  that  ever  I  seen,  in  a  room 
mighty  near  big  enough  for  a  church.  He 
acts  like  he's  glad  to  see  me  again  and  he 
invites  me  for  to  have  a  seat  and  tell  him 
what's  on  my  mind  because,  he  says,  he 
found  my  conversation  the  day  previous  to 
be  most  edifying  and  helpful. 

So  I  says  to  him,  I  says: 

"Boss,  I  wants  to  ast  you  a  question  an' 


Business  Deals        163 

'pun  yore  answer  depends  whither  or  no 
I'm  goin'  ast  you  a  favor  lakwise?" 

"Shoot,"  he  says. 

I  says: 

"The  question  comes  fust,  w'ich  it  is  ez 
follows :  Ef  you  is  earnest  'bout  goin'  into 
the  mekin'  of  cullid  pitchers  fur  cullid  au 
diences,  lak  you  told  me  yistiddy,  I  desires 
please,  suh,  to  know  w'en  you  aims  to  give 
out  yore  plans  to  the  public  at  large  th'ough 
the  newspapers?" 

He  says: 

"Pretty  soon,  I  guess — just  as  soon  as  I 
get  the  scheme  sort  of  shaped  up.  Why — 
did  you  want  a  job  when  we  open  up?" 

"Naw  suh,  not  'at  so  much,"  I  says.  "I 
got  a  stiddy  job  now,  valettin'  fur  Mr.  Dal 
las  Pulliam.  But  I  has  a  right  smart  ex 
tra  time  on  my  hands  an'  I  is  been  kind  of 
figgerin'  on  mebbe  doin'  a  little  somethin' 
on  the  side  in  my  sparin'  hours.  An'  so, 
whut  I  'specially  craves  to  know  frum  you 
is  whether,  w'en  you  gits  ready,  you  intends 
fur  to  'nounce  yore  plans  in  the  cullid 
papers  yere  in  this  town?" 

"Well,"  he  says,  "I  hadn't  thought  of  it 


164    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

before.  But  if  it  would  mean  anything  to 
you  I'd  see  to  it,  personally,  that  it  was 
done  and  also  that  in  the  press  notices  your 
name  was  mentioned  in  a  complimentary 
way  as  having  given  us  valuable  aid  and 
advice — something  of  that  sort.  I  suppose 
you'd  like  to  be  put  in  a  favorable  light 
among  your  friends.  Well,  I  don't  blame 
you.  I'm  somewhat  addicted  to  printers' 
ink  myself.  Was  that  the  favor  you  wanted 
to  ask  of  me?" 

"Yas  suh,"  I  says,  "in  a  way  it  'tis  an'  then 
again,  in  a  way,  it  'tain't.  Yere's  the  idee, 
boss :  I  wants  to  know  f  rum  you  bef o'hand, 
ef  you  please,  w'en  you  perposes  to  mek  the 
'nouncemint  'cause  on  'at  se'f-same  day 
they'll  be  'nother  'nouncemint  in  the  cullid 
papers  settin'  fo'th  'at  the  new  firm  of 
Poindexter  &  Petty  'spectfully  desires  to 
state  'at  they  is  openin'  a  bookin'-agency  fur 
cullid  movin'-pitcher  actors  in  the  neigh 
borhood  an'  'at  lakwise  also,  in  connection 
wid  it,  a  school  fur  trainin'  cullid  folks  how 
to  ack  fur  the  screen  will  later  on  be  added 


on." 


Business  Deals        165 

He  rears  back  in  his  chair  and  sort  of 
smiles  to  himself,  quiet-like. 

"Oh,  I  see,"  he  says.  "I  congratulate  you 
on  being  wide-awake,  anyhow.  But,"  he 
says,  "what  do  you  know  about  training 
people  to  act  for  the  screen?" 

"Well,  suh,"  I  says,  "I  wuz  aimin'  to  pick 
up  a  few  pointers  yere  an'  thar  fur  future 
use.  An'  ef  the  wust  comes  to  the  wust,"  I 
says,  "I  kin  get  me  a  pair  of  these  yere  tall 
yaller  leather  leggin's  an'  a  megaphome  an' 
ack  influential  an'  mebbe  I  could  thar'by 
git  by,"  I  says. 

"Some  of  the  white  directors  are  getting 
by  with  about  that  much  equipment,"  he 
says.  "Perhaps  you  could,  too.  Well,  any 
how,  the  venture  has  my  best  wishes  for  its 
success.  I  can  promise  you  a  little  more 
than  that:  It's  probable  that  later  on  I  can 
throw  some  business  in  your  way." 

"Thanky,  suh,  mos'  kindly,"  I  says.  "  'At 
wuz  mainly  whut  I  wuz  hopin'  fur." 

"Do  you  need  any  funds  to  help  you  out 
in  financing  your  undertaking?"  he  says. 

"Naw  suh,  I  thinks  not,"  I  says.  "I  got 
some  ready  cash  on  hand  an'  my  partner 


166    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

he's  goin'  put  in  a  amount  ekel  to  whut  I 
risks.  Ef  I  needs  any  more  on  top  of  'at, 
I  aims  to  ast  Mr.  Dallas  Pulliam  fur  a  small 
loan." 

Then  I  tells  him  we  lives  at  the  Wheatley 
Court  so  he  can  write  to  me  there  as  soon 
as  he  is  ready  to  proceed  ahead,  and  I  bids 
him  good-bye  and  goes  back  on  up-town 
with  hope  singing  inside  of  me  like  one  of 
these  here  yellow-breast  field-larks  down 
home. 

It  turns  out  though  it's  a  good  thing  we 
don't  need  no  borrowed  capital  from  Mr. 
Dallas'  pocketbook  at  the  outsetting  because 
in  lessen  two  months  from  that  time  Old 
Miss  Bad  Luck  starts  shooting  at  him  with 
the  scatter-gun  of  trouble,  both  barrels  at 
once. 

Which  I  will  go  into  full  details  about 
all  that  mess  the  next  time  I  takes  my  pen 
in  hand. 


Private  Life          167 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Private  Life 

IT  seems  to  me  it's  highly  suitable  that 
I  should  get  to  the  edge  of  telling  about 
Mr.  Dallas'  misfortunate  visitations 
just  as  Chapter  the  Thirteenth  is  starting, 
which,  as  everybody  knows  full  well  al 
ready,  thirteen  is  the  unluckiest  number 
there  is  in  the  whole  alphabet. 

When  you  projects  with  old  Lady  Thir 
teen  you  flirts  with  sudden  disaster.  With 
Mr.  Dallas,  though,  his  troubles  don't  come 
on  all  at  once,  like  a  stroke ;  they  comes  on 
sort  of  gradual,  one  behind  the  other,  like 
the  symptoms  of  a  lingering  complaint. 

Up  to  a  certain  point  everything  with  us 
has  gone  along  very  lovely,  the  same  as  us 
ual,  with  parties  occurring  regular  at  the 
apartment  and  the  Japanee  boy  cooking  up 
fancy  mixtures,  and  me  serving  drinks  by 
the  drove.  Thanksgiving  time  we  has  a 


168    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

special  blow-out  with  twelve  setting  down 
to  the  table  at  once. 

But  Christmas  is  when  we  cuts  loose  and 
just  naturally  out-todos  all  previous  todos. 
All  day  long  folks  is  dropping  in  to  sample 
the  available  refreshments  and  most  of  'em 
likes  the  sample  so  well  they  camps  right 
there  till  far  into  the  night.  I  mingles  up 
a  big  glass  reservoir  full  of  egg-nog,  which 
it  seems  to  give  'special  satisfaction  to  one 
and  all.  The  way  these  here  guests  of  ours 
bails  it  up  you'd  think  they  was  in  a  sinking 
skiff  half  a  mile  from  shore.  As  he  ladles 
out  the  first  batch  Mr.  Dallas  states  that  this 
here  egg-nog  is  made  according  to  a  recipe 
which  has  been  handed  down  in  his  family 
since  right  after  the  Revolutionizing  War. 
But  when  she's  took  the  second  helping, 
Miss  O'Brien,  who's  got  a  mighty  peart 
way  about  her  of  saying  things,  allows  that 
it  shore  must  be  older  even  than  that — she 
says  she's  willing  to  bet  it  had  a  good  deal 
to  do  with  bringing  on  the  revolution. 

Of  all  the  crowd  that  Mr.  Dallas  is  in 
with,  I  likes  her  the  best.  She's  got  a  power 
ful  high  temper  and  is  prone  to  flare  up 


Private  Life          169 

when  matters  don't  go  to  suit  her;  but  it 
seems  like  to  me  she  ain't  devoting  so  much 
of  her  time  as  some  of  the  others  is  to  seeing 
what  she  can  get  for  nothing.  Sometimes 
I  catches  her  looking  at  Mr.  Dallas  like  as 
if  she's  sort  of  sorry  for  him  on  account  of 
some  reason  or  other.  But  to  look  at  him 
on  this  Christmas  Day,  doing  his  entertain- 
ingest  best,  you'd  think  nothing  had  ever 
bothered  him  and  that  nothing  ever  would. 
As  long  as  that  egg-nog  holds  out  he's 
bound  and  determined  the  party  shall  be  a 
success.  Which  it  is! 

But  Mr.  Bellows  he  ain't  got  no  storage 
room  for  egg-nogs.  Seemingly  he  figures 
that  all  them  eggs  and  that  rich  cream  and 
sugar  and  stuff  will  take  up  space  which  is 
needed  for  chambering  the  hard  liquor. 
He  just  sets  off  in  a  corner  with  a  bottle  of 
Scotch  and  a  bottle  of  squirtwater  handy 
by,  curing  his  drought,  or  striving  to.  He 
may  not  be  such  very  good  company  but 
one  thing  they've  got  to  say  for  him — he's  a 
man  of  regular  habits.  You  may  not  like 
the  habits,  but  they  certainly  is  regular.  I 
hears  Mrs.  Gaylord  saying  once  that  Mr. 


170    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

Bellows  can  hold  any  given  number  of 
drinks,  sort  of  pressing  her  voice  down  on 
the  word  "given."  She  don't  need  to  say 
it  twice,  neither,  so  far  as  I  personally  is 
concerned. 

I  got  her  the  first  time. 

It's  maybe  two  or  three  days  after  Christ 
mas — anyhow  it's  somewheres  around  the 
middle  of  Christmas  week — that  I  first 
takes  notice  of  a  sort  of  a  change  coming 
over  Mr.  Dallas'  feelings.  When  there's 
nobody  else  round  but  just  me  and  him  he 
acts  plumb  bothered.  His  appetite  is  more 
picky-and-choosy  than  it  used  to  be;  and  by 
these  signs  I  can  tell  something  is  on  his 
mind  a-preying.  On  New  Year's  Eve  he 
goes  forth  with  his  friends  for  a  party  but 
first  they  all  stops  by  our  place  for  what 
they  calls  appetizers  and  whilst  they  is  gath 
ered  together  it  comes  out  that  him  and 
Miss  Bill-Lee  is  now  engaged.  Not  no 
regular  announcement  is  made  but  all  of  a 
sudden,  seems  like,  everybody  present  ap 
pears  to  know  how  things  stand  with  him 
and  her.  Also,  Miss  Bill-Lee  starts  in 
treating  him  more  or  less  like  he  belonged 


Private  Life          171 

to  her.  I  don't  scarcely  know  how  to  state 
it  in  words,  but  it's  like  as  if  up  until  now 
she's  been  holding  a  piece  of  property  un 
der  mortgage  but  has  finally  decided  for  to 
foreclose  on  it  and  is  eager  for  the  papers 
to  be  fixed  up  in  order  for  to  begin  making 
improvements  and  alterations.  She's  what 
you  might  call  proprietary. 

Well,  I  can't  say  the  news  is  much  of  a 
shock  to  me,  seeing  what  has  been  the  gen 
eral  drift  of  events  since  last  August  when 
we  first  got  here.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
neither  I  can't  say  that,  considering  every 
thing,  I'm  actually  overcome  with  joyful- 
ness  on  Mr.  Dallas'  personal  account. 

I  can't  keep  from  thinking  to  myself  that 
he's  fixing  to  marry  himself  off  into  a 
mighty  different  set  of  folks  from  the  kind 
he  was  born  and  brung  up  amongst.  And 
I  can't  keep  from  thinking  what  a  sight  of 
difference  there  is  betwixt  this  here  Miss 
DeWitt  and  Miss  Henrietta  Farrell,  which, 
as  I  said  before,  he  was  courting  her  before 
we  moved  to  New  York.  One  of  'em  sort 
of  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  rosebud  picked  out 
of  the  garden  in  the  dew  of  the  morning  and 


172    /.  Pomdexter,  Colored 

the  other,  which  I  means  by  that,  Miss  De 
Witt,  reminds  me  of  one  of  these  here  big 
pale  magnolia  blooms  which  has  growed 
on  the  edge  of  a  swamp.  I  ain't  meaning 
no  disrespect  by  having  these  thoughts; 
only  I  can't  keep  from  having  'em. 

I  reckon  it's  having  them  ideas  floating 
round  in  my  head  which  makes  me  study 
Mr.  Dallas  'specially  close  that  New  Year's 
Eve.  For  all  that  he's  laughing  and  joking 
and  carrying  on,  I  figures  that  way  down 
deep  insides  of  him  he  ain't  entirely  happy 
over  what's  come  out.  By  my  calculations, 
he  ain't  got  the  true  feelings  which  a  forth 
coming  bridegroom  should  have.  As  near 
as  I  can  judge,  he  ain't  hopeful  so  much  as 
he's  sort  of  resignated.  Also  and  further 
more,  likewise,  he's  got  a  kind  of  a  puzzled- 
up  beflusterated  look  on  his  face  as  if  he'd 
been  took  up  short  by  something  he  wasn't 
exactly  expecting  to  happen  so  soon,  if  at 
all.  It  ain't  exactly  bewildedment  and  it 
ain't  exactly  distressfulness;  but  it's  some 
thing  that's  distant  kinsfolks  to  both  of  'em. 


Oiled  Skids          173 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Oiled  Skids 

ANYWAY,  that's  that,  as  we  says  up 
here.  I  will  now  pass  along  to 
what  comes  to  pass  about  two  weeks 
later  on.  All  along  through  them  two 
weeks  Mr.  Dallas  don't  impress  me  like  a 
young  man  should  which  he  is  starting  out 
in  the  New  Year  full  of  good  cheer  and 
bright  prospects.  As  the  catch-word  goes, 
he  ain't  at  himself.  At  the  breakfast  table 
when  I'm  passing  things  to  him  he's  often 
looking  hard  at  nothing  at  all.  It's  plain 
his  thoughts  is  far  away  and  not  so  very 
happy  in  the  place  where  they've  strayed 
off  to,  neither. 

Well,  on  this  particular  day,  which  it  is 
along  toward  the  middle  of  the  present 
month  of  January,  he  don't  get  home  from 
down-town  until  long  after  dinner-time  and 
when  he  does  get  in  he  don't  scarcely  touch 


174    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

a  morsel  to  eat;  he  just  pecks  at  the  vittles. 
After  dinner  is  over  and  the  dishes  washed 
up  I  passes  through  the  hall  on  the  way  out, 
being  bound  for  the  Pastime  Club  to  con- 
sultate  with  'Lisses  Petty  touching  on  our 
own  private  affairs.  Mr.  Dallas  had 
told  me  at  dinner  that  I  could  have  the  eve 
ning  off  and  there  was  not  no  reason  why 
I  should  linger  on.  But  as  I  passes  the  set 
ting-room  door  I  looks  in  and  he's  setting 
there,  sort  of  haunched  down  in  his  chair, 
with  his  elbows  resting  on  a  little  table  and 
his  face  in  his  hands,  seemingly  mighty 
lonesome.  Something  seems  to  come  over 
me  and  I  steps  in  and  I  says  to  him,  I  says : 

"  'Scuse  me,  Mr.  Dallas,  fur  interruptin' 
yore  ponderin's,  but  is  they  anythin'  I  kin 
do  fur  you  befo'  I  goes  on  out?" 

He  sort  of  starts  and  looks  up  at  me,  and 
if  ever  I  sees  miserableness  staring  forth 
from  a  person's  eyes  I  sees  it  now.  He 
speaks  to  me  then  and  what  he  says  hits  me 
with  a  jolt.  Because  this  is  what  he  says : 

"Jeff,  why  is  it  that  white  people  are  for 
ever  committing  suicide  on  account  of  their 
private  worries  but  you  never  hear  of  a 


Oiled  Skids          175 

darky  killing  himself  for  the  same  reason?" 
I  studies  for  a  minute  and  then  I  says : 
"Well,  Mr.  Dallas,  I  reckin  it's  'is  yere 
way :  A  w'ite  man  gits  hisse'f  in  trouble  an' 
he  can't  seem  to  see  no  way  to  git  shet  of  it. 
An'  so  he  sets  down  an'  he  thinks  an'  he 
thinks  an'  he  thinks,  and  after  'w'ile  he 
shoots  hisse'f.  A  nigger-man  gits  in  trouble 
an'  he  sets  down  an'  he  thinks  an'  he  thinks 
an'  he  thinks — an'  after  'w'ile  he  goes  to 
sleep!" 

He  smiles  the  least  little  bit  at  that.  But 
it  is  not  no  regulation  smile — it's  more  like 
the  ha'nting  ghost  of  one. 

"But  suppose  you're  brooding  so  hard 
you  can't  sleep?"  he  says. 

"I  ain't  never  seen  no  nigger  yit,"  I  says, 
"but  whut  he  could  sleep  ef  the  baid  wuz 
soft  'nufL  They  may  not  be  many  Vantages 
in  bein'  black,  the  way  the  country  is  or 
ganized,"  I  says,  "but  this  is  shore  one  place 
whar  my  culler  has  it  the  best." 

He  don't  say  anything  back  at  me.  So 
after  lingering  a  little  bit  I  starts  to  move 
on  out.  And  then  another  one  of  them  in 
most  promptings  leads  me  to  speak  again: 


176    /.  Pomdexter,  Colored 

"Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says,  "sometimes  we  kin 
lif  the  load  of  our  pestermints  ef  only  we 
talks  'bout  'em  to  somebody  else.  Some 
times,"  I  says,  "it's  keepin'  'em  all  corked 
up  tight  on  the  insides  of  us  w'ich  meks  the 
burden  bear  down  so  heavy.  .  .  .  Wuz  they 
anything  else,  suh,  'at  you  wished  fur  to 
ast  me?" 

It  seems  like  my  words  must  have  put  a 
fresh  notion  in  his  head. 

"Jeff,"  he  says,  "you're  right.  I've  got 
to  confide  in  somebody — or  else  explode. 
Besides,"  he  says,  "I  figure  that  if  there  is 
one  person  in  all  the  five  or  six  million 
people  in  this  town  who's  likely  to  be  a 
real  friend  to  me,  it's  you.  And  while  my 
talking  to  you  probably  can't  do  any  good, 
it  certainly  can't  do  any  harm." 

"Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says,  "I  is  yore  f  rien'  an' 
yore  desperit  well-wisher,  besides.  Sence 
I  been  wukkin'  fur  you  you  shore  is  used  me 
mouty  kind.  I  ain't  never  had  nary  speck 
nur  grain  of  complaint  to  find  wid  yore 
way  of  treatin'  me.  You's  w'ite  an'  I  is 
black,"  I  says,  "an'  sometimes,  seems  lak 
to  me,  the  two  races  is  driftin'  fu'ther  apart 


Oiled  Skids          177 

day  by  day;  but  all  that  ain't  henderin'  me 
frum  havin'  yore  bes'  intrusts  at  heart. 

"An'  so,  suh,  ef  you  feels  lak  givin'  me 
yore  confidences  I'm  yere  to  heed  an'  to 
hearken  an'  do  my  humble  but  level  bes'  fur 
to  aid  you,  ef  so  be  ez  I  kin." 

"I  believe  you,"  he  says,  "and  I'm  grate 
ful  to  you.  .  .  .  Well,  Jeff,  to  put  it  plain 
ly,  I've  gone  and  got  myself  tangled  up  in  a 
bad  mess." 

"Whut  way,  suh?"  I  says. 

"In  two  ways,"  he  says;  "in  business — 
and  in  another  way.  I've  been  an  ass,  Jeff 
— a  blind,  witless  ass.  This  life  here  was 
so  different  from  any  I'd  ever  known — so 
different  and  so  fascinating — that  it  just 
swept  me  off  my  feet.  I've  been  drifting 
along  with  my  eyes  shut,  having  my  fling, 
letting  today  take  care  of  itself  and  with 
no  thought  of  tomorrow.  As  I  look  back 
on  it,  it  strikes  me  I  always  have  been  more 
or  less  of  a  drifter.  Down  yonder,  among 
our  own  people,  there  always  was  some 
body  who'd  step  in  once  in  awhile  and 
check  me  up.  But  up  here  in  this  big  sel 
fish  greedy  town,  among  strangers,  I've  had 


178    /.  Pomdexterf  Colored 

nobody  to  advise  me  or  to  show  me  where 
I  was  making  a  fool  of  myself.  And,  be 
lieve  me,  I  have  made  a  fool  of  myself.  I 
guess  what  I  need  is  a  guardian — only  I 
doubt  whether  I'd  find  the  money  eventu 
ally  to  pay  for  his  services.  .  .  .  Jeff,  if 
I  was  free  of  these — these — well,  these  en 
tanglements — I  tell  you  right  now  I'd  be 
willing  to  quit  New  York  tomorrow  and 
take  the  next  train  back  home  where  I  be 
long." 

He  studies  a  minute  and  then  he  con 
tinues  to  resume : 

"Yes,"  he  says,  "I'd  head  for  home  in  the 
morning — if  I  could.  It  has  taken  a  hard 
jolt  to  open  my  eyes  but,  believe  me,  they're 
opened  now.  The  chief  trouble  is,  though, 
that  even  with  them  opened  I  can't  see  any 
way  out  of  the  tangle  I'm  in.  Jeff,  the  big 
mistake  I  made  at  the  start  was  that  I  tied 
up  with  the  wrong  outfit.  I  thought  I  was 
joining  in  with  a  group  of  typical  success 
ful  live  New  Yorkers;  I  know  now  how 
wrong  I  was.  There  must  be  plenty  of 
real  people  here — people  who  take  life  in 
moderation ;  people  who  are  fair  and  kind- 


Oiled  Skids          179 

Iy  and  reasonable;  people  who  can  find 
pleasure  in  simple  things  and  who  don't 
pretend  to  know  all  there  is  to  know,  or  to 
be  what  they're  not.  But  I  haven't  met 
them;  I've  been  too  busy  running  with  the 
other  kind." 

Down  in  my  soul  I  says  to  myself  there's 
a  chance  for  him  to  pull  out  yet  if  he's  be 
ginning  to  see  the  brass-work  shining 
through  the  gold  plating  which  has  so 
dazzled  him  up  heretofores.  Yes  sir,  if  he's 
found  out  all  by  himself  that  New  York 
City  ain't  exclusively  and  utterly  composed 
of  the  Mr.  H.  C.  Raynorses  and  the  Mr. 
Hilary  Bellowses  and  such,  there  certainly 
is  hope  for  him  still.  All  along,  up  to  now, 
I've  been  saying  to  myself  that  it  looks  like 
the  only  future  Mr.  Dallas  has  to  look  for 
ward  to,  is  his  past;  but  now  I  rejoices  that 
he's  done  woke  up  from  his  happy  trance. 
But  of  course  I  don't  let  on  to  him  that  such 
is  my  feelings.  I  merely  says  to  him,  I 
says: 

"I  ain't  the  one  to  'spute  wid  you  on  'at 
p'int,  suh.  Naw  suh,  not  me!  But  whut's 


180    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

the  reason  you  can't  pull  out  f  rum  yere,  ef 
you's  a-mind  to?" 

At  that  he  lights  in  and  the  language  just 
pours  out  from  him  like  a  flood.  There's 
a  lot  of  rigmarole  about  business,  and  some 
parts  of  this  I  cannot  seem  to  rightly  get 
the  straight  of  it  into  my  head,  but  I'm 
pretty  sure  I  gets  the  hang  of  all  the  main 
points  clear  enough.  To  begin  with,  I 
learns  now  for  the  first  time  that  him  and 
Mr.  Raynor  ain't  actually  been  selling  oil 
down-town;  they've  been  selling  oil-stocks, 
which  as  near  as  I  can  figure  it  out,  an  oil- 
stock  is  the  same  kin  to  oil  that  a  milk- 
ticket  is  to  milk,  only  it's  like  as  if  the  man 
which  sells  you  the  milk-tickets  ain't  really 
got  no  cows  rounded  up  yet  but  trusts  in 
due  time  he'll  be  able  to  do  so.  Still,  if 
there  is  folks  scattered  about  who's  willing 
to  take  the  risk  that  the  milkman  will  amass 
some  cows  somewhere  and  that  the  cows 
won't  go  dry  or  die  on  him  or  be  grabbed  by 
the  sheriff  and  thereby  leave  the  customers 
with  a  lot  of  nice  new  onusable  milk-tickets 
on  their  hands  why,  the  way  I  looks  at  it, 


Oiled  Skids          181 

there  ain't  no  reason  why  their  craving  for 
to  invest  should  not  be  gratified. 

It  seems,  furthermore,  that  Mr.  Raynor 
ain't  actually  been  selling  as  many  oil  stocks 
in  the  general  market  as  he  has  let  on. 
Leastwise,  that  is  what  Mr.  Dallas  sus 
picions,  even  if  he  can't  prove  it.  When 
first  they  went  into  partners  together  last 
August,  Mr.  Dallas  tells  me  he  put  up  a 
large  jag  of  money  for  his  half-interest. 
He  was  content  to  let  Mr.  Raynor  manage 
the  business  and  keep  the  run  of  the  books 
and  all  that,  seeing  as  how  Mr.  Raynor  had 
the  experience  in  such  matters  and  he 
didn't.  Anyhow,  he  felt  most  amply  satis 
fied  with  the  gratifying  amounts  which  Mr. 
Raynor  kept  handing  over  to  him,  saying  it 
all  was  from  the  profits.  But  this  very  day 
there's  been  a  show-down  at  the  office  grow 
ing  out  of  Mr.  Raynor  having  called  on  him 
to  put  up  another  big  chunk  of  cash  for 
running  expenses,  and  whilst  all  the  figures 
and  all  the  details  ain't  been  made  mani 
fest  to  Mr.  Dallas  yet,  he's  got  mighty  strong 
reasons  to  believe  there  really  wasn't  no 
profits  to  speak  of  and  that  the  money  he's 


182    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

been  drawing  out  all  along  was  just  his  own 
money,  which  Mr.  Raynor  let  him  have  it 
in  order  to  keep  him  happy  and  contented 
whilst  he  was  being  sucked  in  deeper  and 
deeper. 

And  so  now,  Mr.  Dallas  says,  that's  how 
it  stands.  If  he  goes  on  and  on  along  the 
way  he  seems  to  be  headed  it's  only  a  ques 
tion  of  time  till  all  his  money  will  be  plumb 
drained  from  him.  He  tells  me  that  he'd 
be  willing  to  pull  out  now  and  take  his 
losses  and  charge  'em  up  to  the  expenses  of 
getting  a  Wall  Street  education  only,  he 
says,  he  can't.  I  asks  him  then  what's  the 
reason  he  can't?  He  says  because  when  the 
papers  was  drawed  up — by  Mr.  Raynor — 
he  obligated  himself  in  such  a  twistified 
way  that  it  seems  he's  bound  hard  and  fast 
to  stick  to  the  bitter  end.  Of  course,  he 
says,  he  might  start  a  lawsuit  and  throw  the 
whole  thing  into  the  courthouse,  but,  even 
so,  he's  afraid  he  wouldn't  have  a  leg  left 
to  stand  on  by  reason  of  his  having  tied  him 
self  up  so  tight  in  writing ;  and  anyway,  he 
says,  before  he  got  through  with  a  lawsuit 


Oiled  Skids          183 

most  doubtless  the  lawyers  would  have  all 
the  leavings. 

To  myself  I  says  there  is  still  another 
reason.  I  knows  how  much  it  would  hurt 
Mr.  Dallas'  pride  to  have  all  the  folks 
down  home  finding  out  that  he's  made  an 
other  disasterful  move  in  business.  By 
roundabout  ways  it  has  come  to  my  ears 
that  he's  been  writing  letters  back  telling 
about  how  well  he's  doing  up  here  in  New 
York  and  now,  if  it  should  come  out  in  the 
papers  that  he's  made  one  more  bad  bust- 
up  on  top  of  all  them  finance  mistakes  he 
committed  before  he  come  North,  and  he 
should  have  to  go  South  again,  broke  and 
shamed  at  being  broke,  I  reckons  it  would 
just  about  kill  him.  Besides  which  I  knows 
full  well  from  hearing  Judge  Priest  talk 
ing  in  the  past,  that  even  in  medium-sized 
towns  lawyers  is  plenty  costive  persons  to 
hire  for  an  important  lawsuit,  and  in  the 
biggest  town  of  all,  where  the  lawyers 
naturally  run  bigger,  they'd  cost  a  mighty 
heap  more. 

When  he  gets  through  specifying  the  sit 
uation  I  gets  another  notion : 


184   /.  Poittdexfer,  Colored 

"I  wonder,"  I  says,  sort  of  casual-like, 
"I  wonder,  Mr.  Dallas,  w'y  it  wuz  'at  Mr. 
H.  C.  Raynor  should  a-picked  this  per- 
tic'lar  moment  fur  callin'  on  you  fur  a  big 
bunch  of  cash,  'specially  w'en  ef  he'd  a-kept 
silence  you'd  a-prob'ly  gone  on  wid  him, 
never  'spicionin'  anything  wuz  wrong?" 

"Oh,  I'm  not  so  stupid  but  what  I  can 
figure  that  out,"  he  says.  "He's  afraid  so 
much  of  my  money  will  be  spent  soon  in 
another  direction  that  he'll  be  deprived  of 
the  lion's  share  of  what  is  left.  He  wants 
to  strip  me  down  close  while  the  stripping 
is  good." 

"In  'nother  direction?"  I  says,  kind  of 
musing.  "I  wonder  whut  'at  other  direc 
tion  kin  be?" 

"Can't  you  guess?"  he  says. 

"Yas  suh,"  I  says,  "I  kin;  but  I  didn' 
think  'twould  be  seemly  fur  me  to  start 
guessin'  along  'at  line  widout  you  opened 
up  the  way  fust." 

"Jeff,"  he  says,  "I  feel  like  a  low-down 
dog  to  be  dragging  in  a  woman's  name, 
even  indirectly;  and  so  I  guess  the  best 
thing  I  can  do  in  that  direction  is  to  keep 


Oiled  Skids          185 

my  mouth  shut  and  take  my  medicine.  It 
appears  that  here  lately  I've  acquired  the 
habit  of  committing  myself  to  serious  obli 
gations  at  times  when  I'm  not  exactly 
aware  of  what  I'm  doing.  At  the  moment, 
I  don't  seem  to  remember  how  it  all  comes 
about;  then  I  wake  up  and  I  find  I'm 
signed,  sealed  and  delivered.  I  may  be 
the  damndest  fool  alive,  but  at  least  I'm  an 
honorable  fool.  I  was  raised  that  way. 
Where  my  sense  of  personal  honor  is  con 
cerned  I'm  going  to  stick,  no  matter  what 
the  costs  may  be.  I've  been  fed  fat  on 
flattery;  now  it's  time  for  me  to  sup  on  sor 
row  awhile.  Do  you  get  my  drift?" 

"Yas  suh,  I  think  I  does,"  I  says.  "Mr. 
Dallas,"  I  says,  "  'scuse  me  fur  persumin' 
to  keep  on  'long  'is  yere  track,  but  is  you 
right  downright  shore  'at  you  solemnly  en 
gaged  yo'se'f  in  the  holy  bonds  of  wedlock 
to  the  lady  in  question?" 

"I  suppose  I  did,"  he  says.  "I  must 
have.  She  assumes  to  think  so — everybody 
else  assumes  to  think  so.  And  yet,  as 
Heaven  is  my  judge,  I  never  intended  to 
lead  anybody  to  believe  that  I  wanted  to 


186  /.  Pbindexterj  Colored 

make  a  marriage  up  here.  It — it  just  hap 
pened,  Jeff — that's  all.  I  can  see  now  how 
a  lot  of  things  have  been  happening  and 
why.  But  what  can  I  do  to  clear  myself 
from  either  one  of  these  two  tangles?  Fve 
asked  myself  the  question  a  hundred  times 
since  noon  today  and  there's  no  answer.  I 
can't  lick  Raynor  at  his  own  game;  he's 
too  wise;  he's  covered  his  prints  too  well. 
When  I  hinted  at  a  lawsuit  this  afternoon 
he  laughed  in  my  face  and  told  me  to  go 
ahead  and  sue.  And,  as  for  the  other  thing 
— well,  unless  I  go  through  with  it,  against 
my  will  and  my  better  judgment,  it  means 
a  breach  of  promise  suit,  or  I  miss  my  guess. 
Besides,  I  still  have  some  shreds  of  self-re 
spect  left.  I  can't  deliberately  try  to  break 
an  engagement  which,  I  suppose,  I  must 
have  made  in  good  faith." 

"S'posen'  the  lady  herse'f  wuz  to  up  an' 
brek  it  on  her  own  'sponsibility?"  I  says. 

He  laughed  kind  of  scornful. 

"No  chance,"  he  says;  "no  such  luck  for 
me!  I've  walked  blindfolded  into  every 
trap  that  was  set  for  me  and  now  it's  up  to 
me  to  play  the  string  out  till  the  last  penny 


Oiled  Skids          187 

is  gone.  At  the  present  rate  that  shouldn't 
take  long.  But  see  here,  Jeff,  I  wonder 
why  I  sit  here  unburdening  my  woes  on 
you?  I  know  you  would  help  me  if  you 
could,  but  what  can  you  do?  What  can 
anybody  do?" 

"Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says,  "you  can't  never 
tell.  Sometimes  the  humblest  he'ps  out  the 
greates'.  Seems  lak  I  heared  tell  'at  once't 
'pon  a  time  'twuz  the  gabblin's  of  a  flock  of 
geese  w'ich  saved  one  of  these  yere  up 
state  towns — Utica,  or  maybe  'twas  Rome. 
I  don't  rightly  remember  now  whut  'twas 
ailed  'at  town ;  mebbe  'twuz  fixin'  to  go  fur 
William  Jinnin's  Bryant? — somethin'  lak 
'at!  Anyway,  the  geese  gits  the  credit  in 
the  records  fur  the  savin'  of  it.  An'  ain't 
you  never  read  whur  a  mouse  comes  mosey- 
in'  'long  one  time  an'  gnawed  a  lion  loose 
frum  the  bindin'  snares  w'ich  helt  him? 
So,  ez  I  says,  you  can't  never  tell.  But  I 
wonder  would  you  do  me  a  lil'  small  favor? 
I  wonder  would  you  read  a  piece  out  of  a 
su'ttin  book  ef  I  wuz  to  bring  it  to  you  out 
of  the  liberary,  an'  w'en  you'd  done  'at  ef 
you  would  go  on  to  baid  an'  try  to  compose 


188    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

yore    min'    an'   git    some   needful  sleep?" 

" What's  the  idea?"  he  says. 

"Nummine,"  I  says.  "Wait  'twell  I 
fetches  you  the  book." 

So  I  goes  and  gets  it  down  from  the  shelf 
where  it  belongs.  It's  the  furtherest  one 
of  a  long  row  of  big  shiny  black  books, 
which  all  of  them  has  got  different  names. 
But  the  name  of  this  one  is:  Vet  to  Zym. 

He  takes  a  look  at  it  when  I  lays  it  be 
fore  him,  and  he  says: 

"Why,  this  is  a  volume  of  the  Encyclo 
pedia!  What  bearing  can  this  possibly 
have  on  what  we've  just  been  talking 
about?" 

"Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says,  "you's  no  doubt 
of 'en  seen  ole  Pappy  Exall,  w'ich  he  is  the 
pastor  of  Zion  Chapel,  struttin'  round  the 
streets  at  home  in  times  gone  by?  Well, 
the  Rev'n.  Exall  may  look  lak  one-half  of 
a  baby-elephant  runnin'  loose,  but  lemme 
tell  you,  suh,  he  ain't  nobody's  bawn  fool. 
One  time  yere  some  yeahs  back  he  got  his- 
se'f  into  a  kind  of  a  jam  wid  his  flock  'count 
of  some  of  'em  bein'  mos'  onhighly  dissatis 
fied  wid  the  way  he  wuz  handlin'  the  funds 


Oiled  Skids          189 

fur  to  buy  a  new  organ  fur  the  church. 
Nigh  ez  they  could  figger  it  out,  he'd  done 
confisticated  the  organ  money  to  his  own 
pussonal  an7  private  purposes.  Try  ez 
they  moiit,  they  couldn't  nobody  in  the  con 
gregation  git  no  satisfaction  out  of  him  re- 
guardin'  of  it.  So  one  evening  unbe 
knownst  to  him,  a  investigatin'  committee 
formed  itse'f,  an'  whilst  he  was  settin'  at 
the  supper-table  they  come  bustin'  in  on 
him  an'  demanded  then  an'  thar  how  'bout 
it?  Wid  one  voice  they  called  on  him  to 
perduce  an'  perduce  fast,  else  they  gwine 
start  yellin'  fur  the  police.  Wid  that  he 
jest  rise  up  frum  his  cheer  an'  he  look  'em 
right  in  the  eye  an'  he  say  to  'em,  very  ca'm- 
lak:  (My  pore  bernighted  brethren,  in  re 
sponse  to  yore  questions  I  directs  yore 
prayerful  considerations  to  Acts  twenty- 
eighth  an'  seventeenth,  also  Timothy  fust 
an'  fifth,  lakwise  Kings  sixth  an'  fust. 
Return  to  yore  homes  in  peace  an'  read  the 
messages  w'ich  is  set  fo'th  in  the  'foresaid 
Scriptures  an'  return  to  me  yere  on  the 
morrow  fur  fu'ther  guidance.'  Well,  they 
all  dashes  off  fur  to  dig  up  they  Bibles  an' 


190    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

see  whut  the  answer  is.  Bright  an'  early 
next  mawnin'  they  comes  back  to  say  'at 
w'ile  them  is  mighty  fme-soundin'  verses 
w'ich  he  bade  'em  to  read,  still  they  ain't 
nary  one  of  'em  w'ich  seems  to  relate  in  any 
way  whutsomever  to  a  missin'  organ  fund. 
Then  he  smiles  sort  of  pitiful-lak  an'  he 
reaches  his  fat  hand  down  in  his  britches 
pocket  an'  he  hauls  out  the  money  to  the 
las'  cent.  The  trick  w'ich  he  had  done 
played  on  'em  had  give  him  a  chanc't  to 
slip  out  an'  borrow  'nuff  frum  a  couple  of 
w'ite  gen'elmen  frien's  of  his'n  fur  to  mek 
up  the  shortage.  Whut  he  needed  wuz  time 
an'  time  wuz  whut  he  got. 

"Now,  Mr.  Dallas,  I  aims  to  borrow  a 
lesson  frum  the  example  of  ole  Pappy  Ex- 
all.  I  asts  you  to  set  yere  an'  read  a  chap 
ter  out  of  'is  yere  book.  It  don't  mek  no 
diff'ence  to  me  w'ich  chapter  'tis  you  reads, 
jes'  so  it's  a  good  long  one.  I  done  looked 
th'ough  'at  book  the  other  day  an'  most  of 
the  chapters  in  it  is  long  an'  all  of  'em  is 
tiresome.  You  jes'  read  'twell  you  gits 
good  an'  sleepy  an'  'en  you  go  on  to  baid 


Oiled  Skids          191 

an'  refresh  yo'se'f  in  slumber.  An'  in  the 
meanwhile  I  aims  to  steddy  right  hard  over 
these  yere  pressin'  matters  of  your'n  an'  see 
ef  I  can't  see  the  daylight  breakin'  th'ough 
somewhars." 

I  can  tell  by  his  looks  that  he  ain't  got 
no  hope  of  success  on  my  part,  but  he's  so 
plumb  wore  out  from  worrying  that  he  ain't 
got  the  spirit  for  to  resist  me.  He  says  to 
me  he  won't  promise  to  read  the  book,  but 
he  will  promise  to  try  to  lay  aside  his 
botherments  and  go  to  bed  early,  which 
that  is  sufficient  for  me. 

I  leaves  him  there  and  I  goes  back  to  my 
room,  after  telephoning  to  'Lisses  Petty 
that  something  important  has  come  up  at 
our  place  which  will  detain  me  away  from 
him  for  the  time  being.  And  then,  when 
I  gets  to  my  room,  I  sets  down  and  takes 
off  my  shoes.  It  seems  like  I  always  could 
think  better  when  my  feet  was  freed  from 
them  binding  shoes. 

When  a  nigger  boy  is  fixing  to  run  his 
fastest  he's  got  to  snatch  his  hat  off  and  sail 
bareheaded;  and  I'm  much  the  same  way 


192    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

about  my  feet  when  I  craves  to  think.  So, 
my  shoes  being  off,  I  just  rears  back  and 
sets  in  for  to  give  the  problems  before  me 
the  fullest  considerations. 


Vet  to  Zym          193 


CHAPTER  XV 

ret  to  Zym 

THE  way  it  looks  to  me,  here  is  Mr. 
Dallas  Pulliam,  one  of  the  most 
free-hearted,  good-willingest  young 
white  gentlemen  that  ever  lived,  about  to 
be  throwed  to  the  raveling  wolves.  He's 
elected  to  be  the  live  meat,  with  a  two-sided 
race  on  to  see  which  one  of  the  contesters 
can  pick  and  clean  him  the  quickest.  And 
so,  if  he's  going  to  be  saved  for  future  ref er- 
encesr  something  is  got  to  be  done  and  done 
mighty  speedy,  too,  else  there  won't  be  noth 
ing  left  but  the  polished  bones. 

I  therefore  splits  up  my  thinking  into 
two  parts;  first  I  studies  a  spell  about  the 
one  proposition  and  then  I  studies  a  spell 
about  the  other.  To  tell  the  truth,  though, 
I  don't  need  to  have  so  very  many  concern- 
ings  over  the  case  of  Mr.  H.  C.  Raynor. 
I  did  not  let  on  to  Mr.  Dallas  what  was 


194   /.  Pdindextef^  Colored 

passing  through  my  mind,  but  at  the  very 
same  instant  when  he  turned  to  me  for  help 
after  telling  about  the  row  down-town  at 
the  oil  offices  with  Mr.  Raynor,  I  hit  spang 
on  what  might  turn  out  to  be  proper  medi 
cine  for  what  ails  the  gentleman.  It  ain't 
so  very  long,  setting  there  in  my  room  by 
myself,  before  the  scheme  begins  to  sort  of 
routine  itself  out  and  look  like  something. 
With  regards  to  him  I'm  going  mainly 
on  the  facts  that  he's  like  a  lot  of  these  here 
Northerners  which  ain't  never  been  down 
South  to  speak  of,  and  is  therefore  got  curi 
ous  ideas  about  the  South  in  general.  Long 
time  before  this  I  has  took  note  that  he 
thinks  a  colored  person  naturally  enjoys 
being  called  "a  dam  black  rabbit"  or  "a 
worthless  black  scoundrel"  whilst  he's 
waiting  on  white  folks.  Also,  he  can't 
seem  to  get  over  my  failing  to  say  "Yas, 
Massa"  and  "No,  Massa"  when  Mr.  Dallas 
asks  me  a  question ;  and  I  can  tell  he's  kind 
of  put  out  because  I  don't  go  round  speak 
ing  of  myself  as  "dis  nigga"  this  and  "dis 
nigga"  that  and  "dis  nigga"  the  other  thing. 
In  other  words,  I  ain't  living  up  to  the 


Vet  to  Zym          195 

character  of  the  imaginary  kind  of  a  South 
ern-raised  black  man,  which  he's  been  led 
to  expect  I'd  be  from  reading  some  of  these 
here  foolish  writings  which  they  gets  out 
up  here  from  time  to  time. 

I  knows  full  well  what  his  sensations  is 
in  these  matters,  not  only  from  the  look  on 
his  face,  but  from  one  or  two  things  which 
I  has  overheard  him  saying  in  times  past. 
So  now  I  just  puts  two  and  two  together, 
and  I  says  to  myself  that  if  he's  entertaining 
them  misled  ideas  about  my  race,  he  doubt 
less  is  also  got  the  notion  in  his  head  that 
every  quality  white  gentleman  from  down 
South,  and  more  especially  them  which 
hails  from  Kentucky,  totes  a  pistol  on  the 
flank  and  is  forever  looking  for  a  chance  to 
massacrete  somebody  against  which  he's 
took  a  disf  ancy.  I  remembers  now  that  he 
asked  me  once  how  many  feuds  there  was 
going  on  in  our  part  of  the  state  at  the  pres 
ent  time.  Rather  than  disappoint  him,  I 
tells  him  several  small  ones  and  one  large 
one.  And  another  time  he  wants  to  know 
from  me  whether  they  ever  tried  anybody 
in  earnest  for  shooting  somebody  down  our 


196   /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

way.  Secretively,  at  the  time,  I  pities  his 
ignorance,  but  I  ain't  undertaking  to  wean 
him  from  his  delusions,  because  if  that's  his 
way  of  thinking  it  ain't  beholden  on  me  to 
try  to  educate  him  different.  Looking  back 
on  it  now,  I'm  mighty  glad  I  didn't  try 
neither,  because  in  the  arose  situation  I 
figures  that  his  prevailing  beliefs  is  going 
to  fall  right  in  with  my  plans. 

Inside  of  half  an  hour  I  is  through  with 
him  and  ready  to  tackle  the  other  matter, 
which  is  a  harder  one,  any  way  you  look  at 
it.  I  takes  my  head  in  both  my  hands  and 
I  says  to  myself :  What  kind  of  a  lady  is  this 
here  one  we  got  to  deal  with?  With  her 
raisings,  what  does  she  probably  like  the 
best  in  the  world?  What  does  she  pro 
bably  hate  the  most  in  the  world?  What 
would  scare  her  off  and  what  would  make 
her  mad,  and  what  is  it  would  probably 
only  just  egg  her  on?  What  would  she  shy 
from,  and  what  would  she  jump  at? 
Where  would  she  be  reckless,  and  where 
would  she  be  careful?  And  so  on  and  so 
forth. 

All  of  a  sudden — bam! — a  notion  busts 


Vet  to  Zym          197 

right  in  my  face.  Casting  round  this  way 
and  that  for  a  starter  to  go  by,  I  recalls  to 
mind  what  I  heard  Judge  Priest  norrating 
years  ago  touching  on  a  funny  will  which 
a  rich  man  in  an  adjoining  county  to  ours 
drawed  up  on  his  death-bed,  and  how  the 
row  over  it  was  fit  out  in  the  courts,  and 
with  that  I  says  to  myself,  I  says : 

"Hallelujah  to  my  soul,  ole  problem,  I 
shore  does  believe  Fs  got  you  whar  the  wool 
is  short — doggone  me  ef  I  don't  1" 

It's  getting  on  towards  eleven  o'clock 
when  I  puts  my  shoes  back  on  and  slips  in 
to  see  what  Mr.  Dallas  is  doing.  He's  still 
setting  right  where  I  left  him,  with  the 
book  in  front  of  him.  But  his  eyes,  seems 
to  me,  is  beginning  to  droop  a  little.  Well, 
there  ain't  nobody  living  could  linger  two 
hours  over  that  there  old  Vet  to  Zym  with 
out  getting  all  drowsied  up. 

"Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says,  "I  thinks  the  day 
light  is  startin'  to  sift  in  th'ough  the  cloak- 
in'  clouds.  I  seems  to  see  a  bright  streak, 
in  fact  a  couple  of  streaks.  But,  even  so, 
I  is  got  to  be  lef '  free  to  wu'k  things  out  my 
own  way.  Is  you  agreeable,  suh?" 


198    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

"Jeff,"  he  says,  "I'm  in  your  hands. 
There's  no  one  else  into  whose  hands  I  can 
put  myself.  What  do  you  want  me  to  do?" 

"Well  suh,"  I  says,  "first  I  wants  you  fur 
to  go  tek  off  yore  things  an'  git  yo'se'f 
settled  in  baid  fur  the  night.  Tha's  the 


starter." 


"Agreed,"  he  says — "and  then,  what?" 
"Well,  next,"  I  says,  "I  don't  want  you 
to  go  down-town  a-tall  tomorrow.  I  want 
you  fur  to  stay  right  whar  you  now  is.  In 
the  mawnin'  keep  'way  frum  the  telephone. 
Ef  I  ain't  yere  to  answer  it  jes'  you  an' 
Koga  let  it  ring  its  haid  off  an'  don't  pay  it 
no  mind.  In  the  afternoon  you  may  have 
a  'portant  visitor  answerin'  to  the  entitle- 
mints  of  Mr.  H.  C.  Raynor,  Esquire.  Be- 
fo'  he  gits  yere  I'll  tell  you  whut's  to  come 
off  betwixt  you  two,  purvided  the  perlimi- 
nary  'rangemints,  ez  conducted  by  me,  has 
wukked  out  all  right.  But  I  ain't  aimin' 
to  tell  you  the  full  plans  yit — too  much  is 
got  to  happen  in  the  meantime.  Tomor 
row  is  plenty  time." 

"Just  as  you  say,"  he  says.     "I'm  going 
to  my  room  now." 


Vet  to  Zym          199 

"Wait  jes'  one  minute,  please  suh,"  I 
says,  as  he  gets  up.  "Mr.  Dallas,  you 
ain't  ownin'  no  pistol,  is  you?" 

"What  would  I  be  doing  with  a  pistol?" 
he  says,  sort  of  puzzled.  "I  never  owned 
one  in  my  life — I  don't  believe  I  ever  shot 
one  off  in  my  life."  Then  a  kind  of  a 
shamed  smile  comes  onto  his  face.  "Why 
Jeff,"  he  says,  "you  aren't  taking  seriously 
what  I  said  early  tonight  about  suicides, 
are  you?  You  needn't  worry — I'm  not 
thinking  of  shooting  myself  yet  awhile." 

"I  ain't  worryin'  'bout  'at,"  I  says;  "I 
ain't  figgerin'  on  you  shootin'  yo'se'f, 
neither  I  ain't  figgerin'  on  yore  havin'  to 
shoot  nobody  else.  Never'less,  though,"  I 
says,  "an'  to  the  contrary  notwidstandin', 
sence  you  ain't  got  no  pistol,  you's  goin'  to 
have  one  befo'  you  is  many  hours  older — a 
great  big  shiny  fretful-lookin'  one." 

"What  am  I  to  do  with  it  after  I  get  it?" 
he  says. 

"Mr  Dallas,"  I  says,  "please,  suh,  go  on 
to  bed  lak  you  promised  me.  I  got  a  haid- 
ache  now,  clear  down  to  the  quick,  jes' 
frum  answerin'  my  own  questions." 


200   /.  Poindexte?)  Colored 

I  speaks  this  to  him  just  like  he  is  a  little 
boy  and  I  is  his  nurse.  And  off  he  goes, 
just  like  a  wore-out,  desponded,  onhappy 
little  boy. 


Lady-Like!          201 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Lady-Like! 

AS  I  looks  back  on  it  now,  after  the 
passing  of  two  weeks  or  so,  it  seems 
to  me  I  never  traveled  so  fast  and 
covered  so  much  ground  in  all  my  born 
days  as  I  did  on  the  next  day  following 
immediately   along   after   this   here   night 
before.    For    awhile    you    just    naturally 
couldn't  see  me  for  the  dust. 

In  the  first  place,  right  after  breakfast- 
time,  I  glides  out  and  I  scoots  uptown  and 
I  puts  up  ten  dollars  for  security  and  there 
by  I  borrows  the  loan  of  one  of  his  extra 
spare  revolvers  off  of  a  yellow-complected 
person  named  Snake-Eye  Jamison,  which 
it  is  his  habit  to  go  round  the  colored  dis 
tricts  recommending  himself  as  the  cor 
oner's  friend  and  acting  very  gunnery  to 
wards  parties  that  he  gets  dissatisfied  with. 
I  don't  know  how  many  folkses  he's  killed 


202    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

in  his  life,  but  he  must  bury  his  dead  where 
they  falls,  because  I  ain't  never  had  none 
of  the  gravestones  pointed  out  to  me.  But, 
anyway,  he  goes  heeled  on  both  hips  at  all 
times.  But  I  makes  him  onload  her  before 
he  turns  her  over  to  me,  because  I  is  not 
taking  no  chances  on  having  that  thing  go 
ing  off  accidental  and  maybe  crippling 
somebody.  I  totes  this  here  large  and 
poisonous-looking  chunk  of  dark-blue 
hardware  back  to  the  apartment  and  stores 
it  in  a  safe  place  where  I  can  put  my  hand 
upon  it  on  short  notices. 

Then  I  waits  till  Mr.  Dallas  is  in  the 
bathroom  with  the  water  running  so  as  to 
hide  the  sound  of  my  voice,  and  I  goes  to 
the  telephone  and  I  calls  up  Miss  Bill- 
Lee's  *  number  over  on  Riverside  Drive. 

She  mustVe  rose  early  so  as  to  have  her 
complexion  laid  on  so  it'll  get  set  good  be 
fore  she  goes  out  for  the  day;  because  it's  her 
which  answers  my  call  instead  of  the  maid. 

1Note. — It  has  just  dawned  upon  Jeff's  volunteer  amanu 
ensis  that  throughout  the  preceding  pages  of  this  narrative, 
Jeff's  more  or  less  phonetic  rendering  of  this  word  was  an 
effort  on  his  part  to  deal  with  the  Gallicized  pronuncia 
tion  of  an  English  diminutive  for  a  common  proper  name, 
to  wit:  Billy. 


Lady-Like!  203 

I  tells  her  it's  me  on  the  wire  and  I  asks 
her,  as  a  special  favor,  can  I  run  over  to 
her  flat  as  soon  as  it's  agreeable,  to  speak 
to  her  on  a  very  important  matter?  She 
says  yes,  so  eager-like  it  must  be  she's  ex 
pecting  I'm  fetching  a  present  from  Mr. 
Dallas  same  as  I  has  done  quite  often  be 
fore  this.  She  says  I  can  come  at  ten 
o'clock. 

Ten  o'clock  and  I'm  at  the  door.  She's 
in  her  sitting-room  waiting  for  me.  She 
looks  sort  of  disappointed  when  she  sees  I 
ain't  brought  along  no  flowers  nor  no  candy 
nor  no  jewelry-box  nor  nothing  with  me; 
but  she  welcomes  me  very  kindly.  I  don't 
lose  no  time  getting  going. 

"Miss  DeWitt,"  I  says,  making  my  voice 
as  winning  as  I  can,  "now  'at  you  an'  Mr. 
Dallas  is  fixin'  to  git  married  to  one  'nother 
I  been  wonderin'  'bout  whut's  goin'  become 
of  me  in  the  shuffle.  I  'predates  'at  he  laks 
me  fust-rate;  but  he  idolizes  you  so  deeply 
'at  I  knows  he  wouldn't  keep  on  keepin'  me 
nur  nobody  else  round  him  widout  he  wuz 
shore  'at  you  laked  'em,  too.  Tha's  whut's 
been  worryin'  me — the  question  whether 


204    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

you  felt  disposed  agreeable  to  me?  An' 
so,  after  broodin'  over  the  matter  fur  goin' 
on  it's  nearly  a  week,  I  finally  has  tuck  the 
liberty  of  comin'  to  speak  to  you  'bout  it. 
Yassum!" 

"Jefferson,"  she  says  kind  of  indifferent 
and  yet  not  hostile,  "I  have  nothing  against 
you — in  fact  I  rather  like  you.  If  your 
services  are  satisfactory  to  Dallas  I  shall 
have  not  the  slightest  objection  to  his  keep 
ing  you  on  as  his  servant." 

"Thanky,  ma'am,"  I  says,  "hearin'  you 
say  'at  frum  yore  own  lips  su'ttinly  teks  a 
big  load  offen  my  mind.  I  strives  ever  to 
please.  'Sides,  I  got  a  mighty  winnin' 
way  wid  chillen.  I'll  come  in  handy  w'en 
it  comes  to  he'pin'  out  wid  the  nursin'  an' 
all  lak  'at." 

She  sets  up  straight  from  where  she's 
been  kind  of  half -laying  down  and  some  of 
that  chain-gang  jewelry  of  hers  gives  a 
brisk  rattle. 

"Children!"  she  says,  plenty  startled. 
"What  in  the  world  are  you  talking  about?" 

I  answers  back  like  I'm  expecting  of 
course  she'll  understand. 


Lady-Like!          205 

"W'y,"  I  says,  "the  chillen  w'ich  enshores 
'at  Mr.  Dallas  don't  lose  out  none  in  the 
final  cuttin'  up  of  the  estate,"  I  says. 

By  now  she's  rose  bolt  upright  on  her 
feet.  All  that  languidsome  manner  is  fled 
from  her,  and  her  voice  is  sharper  than 
what  I  ever  has  heard  it  before. 

"What's  that?"  she  says,  quite  snappy. 
"What's  that  you  are  saying?  Do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  that  Dallas  has  been  mar 
ried  before — that  he  has  a  child,  or  more 
than  one  child,  hidden  away  somewhere?" 

"Oh,  nome,"  I  says,  very  soothing,  "noth- 
in'  lak  'at.  'Course  Mr.  Dallas  ain't  never 
been  married — up  'twell  now  he's  practi 
cally  been  heart-whole  an'  fancy-free. 
Yassum!  I  wuz  merely  speakin' — ef  you'll 
please,  ma'am,  'scuse  me — of  the  chillen, 
w'ich  natchelly  '11  be  comin'  long  ez  pur- 
vided  fur  onder  the  terms  of  the  ole  gen'el- 
man's  will,  you  know.  Tha's  all  I  meant." 

"Will!"  she  says.  "What  will?  Whose 
will?  Here,  you,  give  me  the  straight  of 
this  thing!  I  haven't  the  faintest  idea  what 
it's  all  about." 

"Now!"  I  says,  acting  like  I'm  overcome 


206   /.  Poindextefj  Colored 

with  a  sudden  great  regret.  "Ain't  that 
jes'  lak  me,  puttin'  my  big  foot  in  it,  gab- 
blin'  'bout  somethin'  w'ich  it  ain't  none  of 
my  affairs?  Most  doubtless,  Mr.  Dallas, 
he's  been  savin'  it  all  up  ez  a  happy  sur 
prise  fur  you.  An'  now,  in  my  innocence 
an'  my  ign'ence,  I  starts  blabbin'  it  fo'th 
unbeknowst.  Lemme  git  out  of  yere, 
please  ma'am,  'fore  I  gits  myse'f  in  any 
deeper  'en  whut  already  I  is  in!" 

She  comes  sailing  across  the  floor  right  at 
me.  Them  big  floating  black  eyes  of  hers 
seems  to  get  smaller  and  sharper  until  they 
bores  into  me  the  same  as  a  pair  of  sharp 
gimblets. 

"You  stay  right  where  you  are,"  she  says, 
commanding  as  a  major's-general.  "You 
don't  leave  this  room  until  I  get  this  mys 
tery  straightened  out." 

"Please,  ma'am,  I'd  a  heap  ruther  you 
spoke  to  Mr.  Dallas  'bout  it,"  I  says,  pre 
tending  to  be  pleading  hard.  "No  doubt 
in  due  time  he'll  confide  to  you  all  'bout 
the  way  the  property  is  tied  up  an'  'bout 
his  paw's  views  ez  'spressed  in  the  will,  an' 
also  'bout  the  way  the  matter  stands  be- 


Lady-Like!          207 

twixt  him  an'  his  twin  brother,  Mr.  Clar 
ence,  an'  all  the  rest  of  it." 

"Twin  brother!"  she  says,  and  by  now 
she's  been  jolted  so  hard  she's  mighty  near 
to  the  screeching  point.  "Where  is  this 
twin  brother?  I  never  heard  of  him — 
never  dreamed  there  was  such  a  person. 
Say,  are  you  crazy  or  am  I?" 

"W'ich  'at  do  settle  it!"  I  says,  very  la- 
mentful.  "Ef  Mr.  Dallas  ain't  told  you 
'bout  his  twin  brother  neither,  it  suttinly 
is  a  shore  sign  to  me  'at  he  wuz  aimin'  to 
purserve  ever'thing  ez  a  precious  secret 
f rum  you  fur  the  time  bein'.  I  'spects  he'll 
jest  more'n  snatch  me  ball-haided  fur  this, 
Miss  DeWitt.  Please,  ma'am,  don't  say 
nothin'  to  him  'bout  my  havin'  give  you  the 
tip,  will  you?" 

"I  don't  want  tips,"  she  says,  "I  want 
facts.  And  I'm  going  to  have  them  here 
and  now — and  from  you!  If  you  want  to 
get  out  of  here  with  a  whole  skin  you'll 
quit  your  vague  mumblings  about  wills  and 
children  and  estates  and  twin  brothers  that 
I  never  heard  of  before,  and  you'll  tell  me 
in  plain  words  the  entire  story,  whatever  it 


208    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

is,  that  has  been  held  back  from  me  so  care 
fully.  You  tell  it  beginning  to  end!" 

"Yassum,"  I  says,  "jest  ez  you  wishes, 
ma'am."  I  tries  to  make  my  voice  sound 
like  I'm  scared  half  to  death,  which  it  don't 
call  for  no  great  amount  of  putting-on  on 
my  part  neither,  because  she  has  done  shed 
all  her  laziness  and  all  her  silkiness  and  all 
her  smoothness  same  as  a  blue-racer  sheds 
his  skin  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  and  she's 
done  bared  her  real  het-up  dangersome 
self  before  me.  "Jest  ez  you  wishes,"  I 
says,  "only  I  do  trus'  an'  pray  at  you'll  pur- 
tec'  me  frum  Mr.  Dallases'  wrath  w'en  he 
finds  out  I  done  spilt  ever'thin'  so  preman- 
ture-lak." 

"Forget  it!"  she  says.  "It  strikes  me  I'm 
the  one  who  needs  protection  if  anybody 
does.  Now,  without  any  more  dodging  or 
ducking  you  give  me  the  truth,  understand? 
No  original  embroidery  of  your  own,  either 
— the  cold  truth,  all  of  it!  And  if  I  find 
out  afterwards  that  you've  been  holding 
back  a  single  detail  from  me !" 

With  that  she  stops  short  and  pins  me 
with  them  eyes  of  hers.  I  can't  hardly 


Lady-Like!  209 

keep  from  flinching  back  from  before  her. 
If  she  was  a  hornet  it'd  be  high  time  to 
start  one  of  the  hands  off  to  the  nearest 
drugstore  after  the  soothing  ointments,  be 
cause  somebody  certainly  would  be  due  to 
get  all  stung  up.  Rejoiceful  though  I  is 
inside  of  me  to  see  how  nice  she's  grabbed 
at  all  the  hints  which  I  has  flung  out  to  her 
like  fishing-baits,  one  after  another,  I'd  be 
almost  as  glad  if  I  was  outside  that  room 
talking  to  her  through  the  keyhole.  But 
it's  shore  dependent  on  me  to  set  easy  and 
keep  on  play-acting  and  not  make  no  slips. 
Things  is  going  well,  but  they  has  got  to  go 
still  better  yet  if  she's  to  swallow  down  the 
main  dose. 


210    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Sable   Plots 

SO  I  spreads  out  both  my  hands  like  as 
if  I'm  plumb  cowed  down  and  licked, 
and  then  I  starts  in  handing  out  to 
her  the  yarn  which  I'd  spent  half  the  night 
before  piecing  it  together  in  my  mind.  It's 
a  mighty  nice  kind  of  romancing,  if  I  do 
say  so,  and  full  of  plausibleness,  'specially 
that  part  of  it  which  is  built  up  on  what  I 
remembers  the  old  judge  having  told  me 
about  the  curious  case  which  come  up  that 
time  in  one  of  the  adjoining  counties.  But 
the  rest  of  it,  including  the  most  fanciest 
touches,  such  as  Mr.  Clarence  and  the  old 
maiden-lady  aunt  and  the  two  sets  of  trip 
lets  and  all,  has  been  made  up  to  order  right 
out  of  my  own  head,  and  I  asks  credit. 

And  now,  whilst  I'm  setting  there  tell 
ing  it  to  her  and  watching  her  close  to  see 
how  she's  taking  it,  I'm  praying  to  the 


Sable  Plots          211 

Good  Lord,  asking  Him  will  He  please, 
Master,  forgive  me  for  onloading  such  a 
monstrous  pack  of  what-ain't-so  on  an  on- 
suspecting  and  worked-up  lady.  And  at 
the  same  time  I'm  hoping  the  spirit  of  Mr. 
Dallases'  dear  departed  father,  which  he 
was  one  of  the  nicest,  quietest  old  gentle 
men  that  ever  breathed,  won't  come  ha'nt- 
ing  me  for  low-rating  his  memory  so  scan 
dalous.  I  knows  full  well  he  must  be  turn 
ing  over  in  the  grave  faster  and  faster  every 
minute  which  passes.  I  only  can  trust  he 
don't  see  fit  to  rise  from  it. 

"Miss  DeWitt,"  I  says,  "lissen,  please, 
an7  you  shell  know  all:  You  see,  ma'am, 
ever'thin'  in  this  connection  dates  back  to 
the  time  w'en  Mr.  Dallases'  paw  made  his 
dyin'  will  some  six  or  seven  yeahs  ago. 
'Course,  as  you  doubtless  has  learned  befo' 
now,  he  lef  the  bigges'  part  of  the  estate 
tied  up." 

"I  don't  know  any  such  thing,"  she  says, 
breaking  in  again  and  even  more  savage- 
like  than  before.  "Do  you  mean  to  tell 
me  Dallas  is  not  the  sole  master  of  his  own 
property?" 


212    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

I  sort  of  stammers  and  hesitates  like  I'm 
astonished  that  she  don't  know  that  part  of 
it,  neither.  My  hanging  back  only  makes 
her  yet  more  fierce  to  hear  the  rest. 

"Wellum,"  I  goes  on  to  say  when  finally 
I  sees  she's  liable  to  blow  clean  up  if  I  de 
lays  further,  "the  real  facts  of  the  case  is 
'at  he  ain't  actually  got  no  property  a-tall, 
ez  you  mout  say.  He  only  draws  down 
one-ha'f  the  intrust  f  rum  it.  He  don't  get 
nigh  ez  much  income,  neither,  ez  whut 
folkses  mout  think  frum  his  free  way 
of  spendin'  his  money  right  an'  lef.  Ez  a 
matter  of  fact,  an'  in  the  strictes'  con 
fidences,  Miss  DeWitt,"  I  says,  "he  is  mos' 
gin'elly  alluz  in  debt  to  the  trustees  by  rea 
son  of  him  bein'  overdrawed.  But, 
course,"  I  says,  "  'at  part  of  it  ain't  neither 
yere  nor  thar,  is  it?  Ef  Mr.  Dallas  wants 
to  slather  his  money  'bout  so  fast  that  ever' 
dollar  he  spends  looks  to  outsiders  lak  it's 
ten  or  twelve,  tha's  his  bus'ness.  Lemme 
git  back  on  the  main  track.  Le's  see,  now? 
I  wuz  specifyin'  to  you  'bout  the  will, 
wuzn'  I? 

"Well,  it's  lak  this:  Wen  folkses  down 


Sable  Plots          213 

our  way  heared  the  terms  of  the  will  they 
wuz  a  heap  of  'em  said  the  old  gen'elman's 
mind  must  a-went  back  on  him  in  his  last 
sickness  fur  him  to  be  layin'  down  any  sech 
curious  'quiremints  ez  them  wuz.  Yas- 
sum,  some  even  went  further  'en  'at.  Some 
went  so  fur  ez  to  say  it  wuz  the  streak  of 
onsanity  w'ich  runs  in  the  Pulliam  fambly 
croppin'  out  ag'in  in  a  fresh  place." 

"Oh,  so  it's  insanity  now!"  she  says. 
"The  longer  you  talk  the  more  interesting 
things  I  learn.  Go  on — go  on  I" 

"Yassum,"  I  says,  "I'm  goin'.  Yassum, 
they  wuz  quite  a  host  of  folkses  w'ich  come 
right  out  an'  said  Mr.  Dallas  an'  Mr.  Clar 
ence,  ary  one  or  both  of  'em,  would  be  am 
ply  justified  in  contestin'  the  will  on  the 
grounds  'at  the  late  lamentable  wuz  out  of 
his  haid  at  the  time  he  drawed  it  up.  But 
no,  ma'am,  not  them  two!  I  figgers  they 
knowed  they  own  dear  paw  well  'nuff  to 
know  the  idee  w'ich  he  toted  in  his  mind* 
'Sides  w'ich,  all  the  members  of  that  fambly 
is  sort  of  techy  on  the  subjec'  of  the  lil' 
trickle  of  onsanity  'at  flows  in  the  blood, 
w'ich,  I  reckin,  they  natchelly  is  to  be 


214   /.  Poindexter^  Colored 

Reused  fur  that.  An'  ef  one  or  the  other  of 
'em  went  to  the  big  cote-house  tryin'  to  bust 
up  the  will  on  the  claim  'at  the  ole  gen'el- 
man  didn't  rightly  know  whut  he  wuz  do- 
in'  to'des  the  last,  it'd  only  quicken  up  the 
talk  'bout  the  craziness  strain.  An'  so,  on 
'count  of  the  Pulliam  pride  an'  all,  they 
jes'  lef '  it  stand  lak  it  wuz.  An'  'en,  on  top 
of  'at,  Mr.  Clarence  he  turned  sort  of  on- 
satisfactory  in  the  haid  an'  he  strayed  off  an' 
wuzn'  heared  of  ag'in  till  yere  recently. 
An'  'en,  soon  ez  Mr.  Clarence  wuz  found, 
Mr.  Dallas  he  come  on  up  yere  an'  you  an' 
him  met  an' " 

"In  Heaven's  name,  quit  drooling  and 
get  somewhere,"  she  says,  making  her 
words  pop  like  one  of  these  here  whip 
lashes.  "What  did  the  will  say?" 

"Yassum,"  I  says,  "yassum,  I  jest  is 
reached  'at  p'int,  now.  The  will  say  'at 
the  estate  is  to  be  helt  in  trust  fur  the  time 
bein'  an'  'en  w'en  the  two  sons  comes  of  age 
they  is  free  to  marry,  only  they  is  both 
bound  to  marry  somebody  or  other  befo' 
they  reaches  they  twenty-fif  birthday.  An' 
the  one  w'ich  has  the  most  chillen  to  his 


Sable  Plots          215 

credit  at  the  end  of  five  yeahs  frum  his 
weddin'  day,  he  gits  the  main  chunk  of  the 
prop'ty,  whilst  the  other  is  cut  down  to 
jest " 

"The  most  children?"  she  says;  only  by 
now  she's  saying  it  so  savigrous  that  she 
practically  is  yelling  it.  "The  most ?" 

"Yassum,"  I  says,  "tha's  it — the  most 
chillen.  You  see,  ma'am,  they  seems  to 
run  to  chillen,  someway,  the  Pulliamses 
does.  When  a  Pulliam  gits  married,  look 
out  fur  baby-carriages,  tha's  all.  They 
don't  seem  to  have  chillen  by  driblets, 
neither,  lak  some  people  does.  They  is 
more  apt  to  have  'em  by  triplets.  They  is 
two  complete  sets  of  triplets  on  record  in 
times  gone  past,  an7  ever'  generation  kin 
be  depended  on  to  perduce  at  leas'  one  set 
of  twins. 

"Or  even  more!  Now,  f'rinstances,  you 
tek  Mr.  Dallas  an'  Mr.  Clarence — both 
twins.  Tek  they  father  befo'  'em  an'  they 
maiden  aunt,  Miss  Sarah  Pulliam,  de- 
ceasted — twins  some  mo'.  Only,  you 
never  beared  much  'bout  Miss  Sarah  in  her 
lifetime  owin'  to  her  bein'  kep'  onder  lock 


216    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

an'  key  fur  spasms  of  a  kind  of  wildness 
comin'  over  her  now  an7  then.  Then  ag'in, 
amongst  Mr.  Dallases'  own  brothers  an7 
sisters,  tek  his  two  lil'  twin  sisters,  not  to 
mention  the  four  or  five  singles  w'ich  come 
'long  right  stiddy  an'  reg'lar.  Yassum, 
it's  been  'at  way  in  the  famby  fur  ez  fur 
back  ez  the  oldest  inhabitant  kin  remem 
ber. 

"But  the  gineration  w'ich  Mr.  Dallas 
belongs  to,  it  turned  out  sickly  fur  the  most 
part,  an'  so,  by  the  time  the  ole  gen'elman 
come  to  die,  all  his  chillen  had  died  off  on 
him,  'scusin'  Mr.  Dallas  an'  Mr.  Clarence, 
w'ich  them  two  wuz  all  they  wuz  left  out 
of  a  big  swarm.  Oh,  I  jedges  the  paw 
knowed  whut  he  wuz  'bout!  I  reckin  he 
craved  'at  his  breed  should  once  more 
multiply  freely  an'  replenish  the  earth  wid 
a  whole  multitude  of  HI'  Pulliamses.  An' 
so  he  purvided  fur  a  healthy  competition 
betwixt  his  two  sons  to  see " 

"Wait!"  she  says.  "Let  me  see  if  I  un 
derstand  you?  You  say  that  by  the  terms 
of  that  old  maniac's  will  the  bulk  of  his 
estate  was  tied  up  so  to  go  eventually  to  the 


Sable  Plots  217 

son  who  had  the  most  children  five  years 
after  marriage.  Well,  then,  what  does  the 
remaining  son — the  loser — get?" 

"He  gits  a  hundred  an'  fifty  dollars  a 
month  fur  life — I  think  tha's  whut  it  come 
to,"  I  says.  "Mebbe  it  mout  be  a  hund'ed 
an'  sebenty-five,  I  won't  be  shore.  An'  he 
also  draws  down  fifty  dollars  a  month  ex- 
try  fur  each  chile  he's  got  livin'.  But  tha's 
all.  The  home  place  an'  the  tobacco  bus'- 
ness  an'  the  money  in  the  bank  an'  all  else, 
they  goes  to  the  winner,  onlessen  each  one, 
at  the  end  of  them  five  yeahs  is  got  a  ek'el 
number  of  chillen  in  w'ich  case  the  estate 
is  divided  even-Stephen  betwixt  'em.  Yas- 
sum!" 

"Then  why  didn't  both  brothers  marry 
as  soon  as  they  came  of  age?"  she  asks  me, 
sort  of  suspicious.  But  I  was  expecting 
that  very  question  to  come  forth  sooner  or 
later,  and  I  was  prepared  beforehand  for 
it. 

"Wellum,"  I  says,  "you  see,  I  reckin  Mr. 
Dallas  figgered  they  wuzn'  no  need  to  be 
in  a  rush  seein'  'at  Mr.  Clarence  wuz  so 
kind  of  ondependable.  Ef  the  truth  must 


218    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

be  knowed,  Mr.  Clarence  wuz  downright 
flighty.  He  had  spells  w'en  he'd  furgit  his 
own  name  an'  go  wanderin'.  Yassum! 
An'  right  after  he  come  of  age  he  took  a 
'specially  severe  spell  an'  he  sauntered  so 
fur  away  they  plum'  lost  track  of  him.  It 
wasn't  'twell  last  July  'at  he  wuz  located 
ag'in.  It  seems  lak  he'd  been  detained 
somewhars  out  West  in  a  sort  of  a  home 
whar  they  keeps  folks  w'ich  is  liable  to  fits 
of  chronic  oneasiness  in  the  haid.  But 
now,  suddenly,  his  refreshed  memory  had 
come  back  to  him  an'  the  doctors  per- 
nounced  him  cured  an'  turned  him  loose 
ag'in;  an'  the  latest  word  wuz  'at  he  wuz 
thinkin'  'bout  gittin  married  down  in  Texas 
or  one  of  'em  other  distant  places,  out  yon- 
derways.  So  Mr.  Dallas  must  a-realized 
'at  'twuz  up  to  him  to  stir  his  stumps  an' 
git  hisse'f  married  off,  too ;  'specially  ez  he 
had  done  passed  his  twenty-fo'th  birthday 
the  month  befo'.  Well,  seemed  lak,  he 
couldn't  find  no  young  lady  down  home 
w'ich  wuz  suitable  to  his  fancies,  although 
some  folks  did  say,  quiet-lak,  'at  they  wuz 
a  local  prejudice  springin'  up  on  the  part 


Sable  Plots          219 

of  parents  ag'inst  havin'  they  daughters 
marryin'  him.  But  betwixt  you  an'  me, 
ma'am,  I  never  tuk  no  stock  in  'at,  'cause 
most  of  the  time  Mr.  Dallas  is  jest  ez 
rationable  ez  whut  you  an'  me  is.  It's  only 
w'en  he  gits  excited  'at  he  behaves  a  HP 
peculiar-lak.  Well,  anyways,  Mr.  Dallas 
he  come  on  up  yere  an'  he  met  you.  So 
now  it  looks  lak  ever'thing  is  goin'  turn  out 
all  right,  an'  mebbe  we'll  beat  out  Mr. 
Clarence  after  all,  in  w'ich  case  Mr.  Dallas 
won't  have  to  be  worryin'  at  the  end  of  five 
yeahs  'bout  whar  he's  goin'  to  rake  up  the 
cash  to  pay  back  the  money  w'ich  he's  over- 
drawed  out  of  the  estate,  nur  nuthin'.  So 
that's  how  come  me  to  mention  chillen 
w'en  I  fust  come  in,  ma'am.  An'  I  trusts 
you  understand?" 

And  with  that  I  smiles  at  her  like  I'm 
expecting  that  now,  seeing  she  knows  all 
the  tidings,  she'll  be  jubilated  over  the 
prospects,  too. 

But  she  ain't  smiling — I  lay  she  ain't  got 
a  smile  left  in  her  entire  system.  She's 
mighty  nigh  choking,  but  it  ain't  no  happy 
emotion  that  she's  choked  up  with;  if  you 


220    /.  Pomdexter9  Colored 

was  a  blind  man  you  could  a-told  that  much 
from  the  sounds  she's  making.  She's  say 
ing  things  fast  and  furious.  Remarks  is 
just  foaming  from  her;  but  the  trouble  is 
she  keeps  on  getting  her  statements  all 
jumbled  up  together  so  they  don't  make 
good  sense.  And  yet,  notwithstanding,  I 
still  can  follow  her  thoughts.  I  catches 
the  words:  "most  children" — she  duplicates 
that  several  times — and  "twins"  and  "trip 
lets"  and  "insanity"  and  "one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  a  month."  And  all  mixed  in 
with  this  is  loose  odds  and  ends  of  language 
which  seems  to  indicate  she  thinks  some 
body  has  been  withholding  something  back 
on  her  or  trying  to  take  an  unfair  advantage 
of  her,  or  something.  She  certainly  is  in  a 
swivit.  A  little  more  and  she'd  be  deliri 
ous —  she  would  so! 

All  of  a  sudden  she  flings  herself  out  of 
the  room,  with  her  necklaces  and  things 
clashing  till  she  sounds  like  a  runaway 
milk-wagon,  and  she  makes  for  the  tele 
phone  in  the  hall,  and  I  can  hear  her  trying 
very  frantic  to  get  our  number  rung  up. 
For  a  minute  my  heart  swarms  up  in  my 


Sable  Plots  221 

throat;  anyhow,  some  of  my  organs  swarms 
up  there  where  I  can  taste  'em.  I'm  so 
afraid  Mr.  Dallas  may  forget  his  promise 
to  me  and  come  to  the  'phone!  If  he  does, 
the  whole  transaction  is  liable  to  be  busted 
up  just  when  I've  strove  so  hard  to  fix 
everything  nice  and  lovely.  That's  why 
my  heart  climbs  up  in  my  windpipes.  But 
after  a  little  bit  I  can  breathe  easy  some 
more  because  it's  plain,  from  what  I  over 
hears,  that  Central  tells  her  she  can't  get 
no  responsives  from  the  other  end  of  the 
wire.  So  then,  after  one  or  two  more  tries, 
she  gives  up  trying  and  she  comes  back  into 
the  setting-room,  still  spilling  mumbling 
words,  but  "children"  continues  to  be  the 
one  she  seems  to  favor  the  most,  and  she 
says  to  me  that  she  has  a  message  to  send 
to  Mr.  Dallas,  which  she  wants  me  for  to 
take  it  to  him. 

Still  playing  my  part,  I  says  to  her  I 
truly  hopes  there  ain't  going  to  be  nothing 
in  the  message  which  will  put  Mr.  Dallas 
in  a  bad  humor  with  me.  But  she  don't 
appear  to  hear  my  pleading  voice.  She's 
already  set  down  over  at  a  little  writing- 


222   /.  P0fndexter>  Colored 

desk  in  the  corner,  and  she's  got  a  pen  in 
her  hand  and  she's  writing  away  like  a 
house  on  fire.  The  pen  is  squeaking  the 
same  as  if  it  was  in  torment,  and  them  five 
or  six  bracelets  on  her  arm  is  clinking 
sweet  music  to  my  ear.  I  ain't  no  seventh 
son  of  a  seventh  gun,  which  they  tells  me 
they  has  the  gift  of  prophecy  laid  upon 
them  at  birth,  nor  yet  I  ain't  no  mind- 
reader,  but,  even  so,  I  says  to  myself  that 
I  don't  need  but  one  guess  at  the  true  nature 
of  what  'tis  she's  writing. 

She  gets  through  quite  soon — there's  only 
just  one  single  sheet  of  paper,  and  she  folds 
it  up  and  creases  it  hard  like  she's  trying  to 
mash  it  in  two,  and  she  jams  it  in  an  enve- 
loper  and  seals  the  enveloper  and  shoves  it 
into  my  waiting  hand,  and  she  says  to  me : 

"There!  Now  you  take  this  note  to  the 
man  you  work  for,  immediately!" 

"Yassum,"  I  says;  "is  they  any  answer  to 
come  back?" 

"Answer?"  she  says,  "No — no — no — 
NO!" 

So  I  goes  right  out,  leaving  her  still  say 
ing  it  at  the  top  of  her  voice.  It  seems  to 


Sable  Plots  223 

me  it's  high  time  to  go,  if  not  higher.  Be 
sides,  it's  mighty  hard  trying  to  carry  on  a 
conversation  with  an  overwrought-up  lady 
which  she  has  only  got  one  word  left  in 
stock,  which  that  one  is  a  little  short  word 
like  "No." 

So  I  takes  my  foot  in  my  hand  and  I 
marvils  thence  from  there  fast  as  ever  my 
willing  legs  can  take  me.  And  as  I  goes 
along  on  my  way,  speeding  'cross-town 
bound  for  our  quarters,  I'm  trying  to  think 
of  a  stylish  word  which  in  times  gone  by  I 
has  heard  some  of  the  white  folks  use  as  a 
pet  name  for  a  note  from  one  loving  soul 
to  another.  Pretty  soon  it  comes  to  me — 
billet  douxt 

I  stops  right  still  where  I  is  at: 
"Bill-Lee  do,  huh?"  I  says  to  myself. 
"Yas,    sometimes    Bill-Lee    do.     But   this 
time — glory,    hallelujah,    amen ! — Bill-Lee 
do  not!" 


224    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

White  Hopes 

WHEN  you  is  engaged  in  going  to 
and  fro  in  the  world  doing  good 
deeds  you  certainly  can  cover  a 
surpassing  lot  of  ground  in  a  short  time. 
It's  striking  ten  when  I  knocks  at 
the  lady's  door;  it  ain't  eleven  yet,  by 
the  lacking  of  .a  few  minutes,  when  I  is 
home  again  and  has  handed  over  the  note 
to  Mr.  Dallas  and  is  watching  his  face 
whilst  he  reads  it.  He's  got  one  of  these 
here  open  faces,  and  I  can  tell,  easy  enough, 
exactly  what  thoughts  goes  through  his 
mind.  Mostly  he's  full  of  a  great  relief — 
that's  plain  to  see — but  mixed  in  with  it  is 
a  faint  kind  of  a  lurking  regretfulness  that 
she  should  a-broke  loose  from  him  so 
abrupt  this-a-way.  If  folks  has  got  the 
least  crumb  of  vanity  in  'em  it  shows  forth 
when  a  love  affair  is  going  to  pieces  on  'em. 


White  Hopes        225 

And  Mr.  Dallas  is  not  no  mite  different  in 
this  matter  from  the  run  of  creation.  Even 
so,  he's  displayed  more  joysomeness  than 
anything  else  when  it  comes  to  the  end  of 
what  she's  wrote  him.  He  reaches  out  af 
ter  my  hand  for  to  shake  it  good  and  hard 
and  hearty. 

"Jeff,"  he  says,  "my  hat's  off  to  you — 
you're  the  outstanding  wonder  of  the  cen 
tury.  I  judge  it's  hardly  necessary  for  me 
to  tell  you  what's  in  this  note?" 

"I  been  able,"  I  says,  "to  mek  my  own 
calculations,  suh.  I  reckins  ef  I  wuz  put 
to  it,  I  could  guess." 

"How  did  you  ever  succeed  in  doing  it?" 
he  says. 

"Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says,  "the  main  p'int  is 
'at  it's  done — ain't  'at  so,  suh?" 

"Agreed,"  he  says;  "but  there  are  hints 
here — hints  is  a  mild  word — at  things  I 
don't  in  the  least  understand.  Now,  for 
example " 

"Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says,  "ast  me  no  ques 
tions,  please  suh,  an'  I'll  tell  you  no  lies. 
Lyin'  don't  come  natchel  to  me,  ez  you 
knows — I  has  to  strain  fur  it." 


226    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

"Very  well,"  he  says,  "have  it  your  own 
way;  I  won't  press  you.  The  proof  is  in 
my  hand  that  you  accomplished  what  you 
set  out  to  do;  and  seeing  that  I  had  no  part 
or  parcel  in  it  I  figure  it's  up  to  me  to 
show  less  curiosity  and  more  gratitude." 

"Nummine  the  gratitudes  part  yit 
aw'ile,"  I  says.  "Us  is  got  a  heap  more  to 
'complish  'fore  the  sun  goes  down  tonight. 
It's  only  jest  a  part  of  the  load  w'ich  is 
been  lifted — bear  'at  in  mind,  suh.  The 
case  of  Mr.  H.  C.  Raynor  is  yit  remainin' 
to  be  'tended  to." 

"You've  already  shown  me  what  you  can 
do,  even  though  I'm  left  in  the  dark,  as 
to  the  exact  methods  you  use  in  these  big 
emergencies,"  he  says.  "I'm  still  follow 
ing  your  lead.  What  comes  next?" 

All  through  this  he's  been  walking  up 
and  down  the  floor  like  he  was  drilling  for 
the  militia.  So  I  induces  him  for  to  set 
down  and  be  still,  and  I  proceeds  to  specify 
further. 

I  says  to  him,  I  says : 

"Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says,  "these  here  chronic 
.Noo  Yawkers  is  funny  people— some  of 


White  Hopes         227 

'em.  'Cause  they  knows  they  own  game 
they  thinks  they  ain't  no  other  games  wu'th 
knowin'.  'Cause  they  thinks  the  Noo 
Yawk  way  of  doin'  things  must  be  the  only 
suitable  way,  they  don't  concern  theyselves 
'bout  the  way  an  outsider  mout  tackle  the 
same  proposition.  To  be  so  bright  ez  they 
is  in  some  reguards,  they  is  the  most  ign'ent 
in  others  ever  I  seen.  Now,  'cordin'  to  my 
notions,  w'en  you  gits  'em  on  strange 
ground,  w'en  you  flings  a  novelty  slam-bang 
in  they  faces,  they  ain't  got  no  ways  an' 
means  figgered  out  fur  meetin'  it  an'  they's 
liable  to  git  all  mommuxed  up  an'  swep' 
right  off  they  feet." 

"Jeff,"  he  says,  "you  have  gifts  which  I 
never  fully  appreciated  before.  You  are 
not  only  a  philosopher  but  a  psychologist 
as  well." 

"Boss,"  I  says,  "you  does  me  too  much 
honor.  So  fur  ez  I  knows,  I  ain't  nary 
one  of  them  two  things  w'ich  you  jest  called 
me.  I  only  merely  strives  fur  to  use  the 
few  grains  of  common-sense  w'ich  the 
Good  Lawd  give  me,  tha's  all  'tis.  Tubby 
shore,  I  got  one  'vantage  on  my  side :  I  kin 


228    /.  Poindextef,  Colored 

look  at  w'ite  folkses'  affairs  frum  a  cullid 
stan'p'int  whar'as  they  kin  only  look  at  'em 
frum  they  own.  Ef  the  shoe  wuz  on 
t'other  foot  you  doubtless  could  he'p  me; 
but  in  the  present  case  it's  possible  I  kin 
he'p  you.  I's  on  the  outside  lookin'  in, 
whilst  you  is  on  the  inside  lookin'  out,  ez 
you  mout  say;  so  mebbe  I  kin  'scover  things 
w'ich  you'd  utterly  overlook.  The  fly  be- 
holes  whut  'scapes  the  elephant's  eye  an' 
the  minner  gives  counsel  to  the  whale. 
Mebbe  I  ain't  gittin'  the  words  routined 
right  fur  to  'spress  my  meanin's,  but,  even 
so,  I  reckin  you  gits  my  drift,  don't  you, 
suh?" 

"I  follow  you  perfectly,  with  an  ever-in 
creasing  admiration,"  he  says.  "Go  ahead. 
This  look  like  our  lucky  day  anyhow — let's 
press  the  luckl" 

"Yas  suh,"  I  says.  "Now,  f'rinstances," 
I  says,  "you  tek  the  'foresaid  Mr.  H.  C. 
Raynor.  Wen  you  spoke  to  him  of  law 
suits  yistiddy  he  mouty  nigh  laffed  in  yore 
face,  didn't  he?  Well,  'at  shows  he  ain't 
got  no  dread  of  lawsuits.  Prob'ly  he's 
been  mixed  up  in  'em  bef  o' ;  most  doubtless 


White  Hopes        229 

he  knows  the  science  of  lawsuitin'  f  rum  the 
startin'-tape  to  the  home-stretch.  An'  lak- 
wise  he'd  have  the  bulge  on  you  w'en  it 
come  to  makin'  figgers  wu'k  out  lak  he 
wanted  'em  to,  so  he'd  'pear  to  be  inside 
his  rights  an'  you'd  'pear  to  be  on  the  wrong 
side  of  the  docket.  I  persume  he's  had  a 
'bundance  of  'sperience  in  sech  matters, 
w'ich  you  ain't.  He  knows  his  own  system 
an'  he  knows  you  don't  know  it,  w'ich  for 
tifies  him  yit  fu'ther.  All  right,  suh,  so 
much  fur  that.  But  s'posen,  now,  on  the 
other  hand,  we  wuz  to  layway  him  an'  jump 
out  of  ambushmint  at  him  wid  a  brand-new 
notion?  I  jedges  he  ain't  got  no  ripperta- 
tion  to  speak  of,  so  losin'  whut  HI'  scraps  of 
it  he  mout  have  left  wouldn't  keep  him 
'wake  nights  worryin',  'specially  effen  he'd 
already  salted  away  the  cash  w'ich  he 
craved.  But  he  do  own  somethin'  w'ich  he 
prizes  most  highly  or  elsewise  I  misses  my 
guess — he's  got  a  skin  w'ich  he's  managed 
some  way,  by  hook  or  crook,  to  keep  it 
whole  up  to  now.  An'  ef  right  out  of  a 
clear  sky  he  suddenly  wuz  faced  wid  a 
prospect  of  bavin*  it  all  punctured  up  in 


230   /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

mebbe  fo',  five,  or  six  places,  I  figgers  he 
mout  start  singin'  a  diffunt  song  frum  the 
one  w'ich  at  the  present  'pears  to  be  his 
f  av'rit'  selection. 

"There's  just  one  thing  more,"  I  says, 
"Prob'ly  it's  'scaped  yore  'tention,  Mr.  Dal 
las,  but  I's  been  steddyin'  Mr.  H.  C.  Ray- 
nor  off  an'  on  an'  I  has  took  note  'at  he's 
got  some  very  curiousome  idees  in  his  haid 
'bout  the  kind  of  folkses  you  an'  me  is. 
Didn't  it  never  occur  to  you,  suh,  'at  he 
thinks  practically  all  Southern  w'ite  gen'el- 
men  is  a  heap  more  hot-haided  an'  fiery- 
blooded  'en  whut  the  run  of  'em  really  is? 
Didn't  it  never  occur  to  you  frum  his  talk, 
'at  he  figgers  'at  most  ev'ry  thorough-bred 
Kintuckian  is  prone  to  settle  his  argumints 
wid  fo'ty-fo'  calliber  ca'tridges?  Well, 
I's  read  his  thoughts  'long  them  lines,  even 
ef  you  ain't,  an'  I'm  shore  I  got  him  placed 
right.  Tha's  whut  I'm  countin'  on  now, 
suh,"  I  says ;  "tha's  whar'in  lays  our  main- 
dest  dependince.  Does  you  see  whut  I'm 
aimin'  at,  suh?  Or  does  you  don't?" 

He  ain't  needing  to  answer.  His  face  is 
beginning  to  light  up  and  his  eyeballs  is 


White  Hopes        231 

starting  to  dance  in  his  head.  So  I  knows 
the  time  is  come  for  me  to  cease  from  pre 
ambling  and  get  right  down  to  cases. 
Which  I  accordingly  does  so. 

I  teljs  him  the  greatest  part  of  what  I 
aims  to  do.  I  tells  him  what-all  he's  to  do. 
I  tells  him  what  '11  be  the  signal  for  him 
to  bust  into  the  picture.  I  tells  him  how 
he  should  deport  hisself  after  he's  done 
so.  I  can  tell  him  what  should  be  done 
up  to  a  certain  point,  but,  past  that,  as  I 
says  to  him,  he'll  just  have  to  let  Nature  take, 
its  coarseness. 

I  labors  over  him  until  I  can  tell  he's 
getting  his  mad  up — his  hands  begins  to 
twitch  a  little  and  his  jaw  sort  of  locks  and 
there's  a  kind  of  a  reckless  spunky  look 
stealing  onto  his  expression.  That  suits 
me.  I  wants  him  to  be  even  more  nervous 
than  what  he  is  now  when  the  performance 
starts — the  nervouser  he  is  the  better  for 
our  purposes. 

When  his  dander  is  worked  up  to  suit 
and  getting  more  worked-up  and  more 
danderish  every  minute,  I  leaves  him  there 
and  I  goes  out  into  the  hall  and  I  rings  up 


232    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

the  oil  office.  One  of  the  help  answers  to 
my  call  and  I  tells  him  to  please  get  Mr. 
Raynor  on  the  line  right  speedy.  In  about 
a  minute  his  voice  comes  to  me  over  the 
wire. 

"Hello!"  he  says,  very  sharp-like,  "hello! 
— who  is  it?" 

"Mr  Raynor,"  I  says,  "this  yere  is  Jeff 
Poindexter,  speakin'  fur  Mr.  Dallas.  He 
desires  'at  you  will  please  run  on  up  yere 
to  our  place  soon  ez  you  kin  git  yere.  He 
ain't  seemin'  to  be  hisse'f  today  an'  so  he 
ain't  aimin'  to  come  down-town.  In  fac', 
right  now  he's  layin'  down,  but  he  p'intedly 
insists  on  seein'  you  'mediately.  He  says 
it's  most  highly  important.  'At's  the  mes 
sage  he  tells  me  fur  to  convey,  suh." 

"Well,"  he  says,  sort  of  grumbling,  "it's 
getting  on  toward  my  lunch-time;  but  I 
suppose  I  could  come.  Tell  him  I'll  be 
there  in  half-an-hour  from  now." 

"Yas  suh,"  I  says,  "thanky  suh.  .  .  .  Hole 
on,  Mr.  Raynor;  they's  jest  one  thing  else." 
And  now  I  lets  my  voice  slink  down,  sort 
of  cautious-like.  "Mr.  Raynor,"  I  says, 
"I  done  deliver  Mr.  Dallases'  word  to  you 


White  Hopes        233 

— now  I  wishes  fur  to  say  a  lil'  somethin' 
on  my  own  'count.  Wen  you  gits  yere, 
please  suh,  come  straight  on  up  to  the  'part- 
mint  widout  bein'  'nounced  frum  down 
stairs  an'  walk  right  on  in  widout  knockin' 
or  ringin'  the  bell — the  do'  '11  be  onlatched. 
I'll  be  waitin'  fur  you  in  the  privit  hall  to 
'scort  you  into  the  front  room.  I  craves  to 
speak  wid  you  a  minute,  jest  by  ourselves." 

"What's  the  big  idea?"  he  says. 

"I  can't  'splain  over  the  'phone  by  reason 
'at  I  mout  be  over-heared,"  I  says;  abut  I 
allus  has  lakked  you,  suh,  frum  the  fust — 
an'  mebbe  I  mout  give  you  a  few  p'inters 
'at  you  sh'd  oughter  know  bef  o'hand." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  he  said.  "There's  been  some 
loose  talking  going  on  up  there  and  you've 
heard  something  you  think  might  interest 
me,  eh?  Fine  and  dandy!  Well,  Jeff, 
you're  wise  to  line  up  with  me— it  shows 
you've  got  sense.  You  won't  lose  by  it, 
either.  I'm  always  willing  to  pay  the  top 
market-price  for  valuable  inside  informa 
tion." 

"Yas,  suh,"  I  says,  "thanky,  suh — 'at's 
partially  whut  I  wuz  figgerin'  on.  I'll  be 


234    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

hoverin'  'bout  on  the  look-out  fur  you,  suh, 
'cause  it  shorely  is  mouty  essential " 

Right  here  I  breaks  off  sudden,  like  as  if 
I'd  suddenly  got  scared  that  I  might  be 
eavesdropped  on  or  interrupted  or  some 
thing. 

Well,  the  fruitful  seed  has  done  been 
planted.  Almost  before  I  has  time  to  hang 
up  and  get  up  from  that  there  telephone  it 
seems  like  to  me  I  can  feel  'em  organizing 
to  sprout  under  my  feet. 


Pistol  Plays          235 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Pistol  Plays 

I  HAS  fully  half  an  hour  to  wait  and  I 
puts  it  in  going  over  the  program,  as 
it  has  already  done  been  mapped  out, 
just  to  make  absolute  sure  nothing  ain't 
been  left  out.  There's  one  switch  in  the 
plans,  which  I  decides  to  make  it  right  at 
the  last  minute,  mighty  near  it.  This  here 
decision  is  that  I'll  shove  things  along  pow 
erful  brisk  once  we  gets  going  good  and 
under  way;  which  naturally  this  means  I've 
got  to  change  my  Riverside  Drive  system. 
But  circumstances  alters  cases  and  what's 
side-meat  for  one  is  cold  poison  for  another. 
The  way  I  looks  at  it,  it  all  depends  on  the 
anigosity *  of  the  occasion. 

Now,  with  the  lady,  the  best  scheme, 
seemed  like  to  me,  was  not  to  crowd  the 

xNote. — The  word  is  believed  to  be  one  of  JefFs  own 
coinage.  It  is  left  as  written.  Its  meaning  may  be  doubt 
ful  but  who  will  deny  that  it  is  a  good  word? 


236   /.  Poindexterj  Colored 

mourners,  as  the  saying  is,  but  just  to  lazy 
along  in  a  weaving  way,  letting  the  specifi 
cations  sink  into  her  one  by  one  and  thereby 
thus  giving  her  time  to  brood  over  each  sep 
arate  point  as  it  come  forth.  But  with  him 
I  figures  the  best  plan  is  the  quick-rushing 
plan.  I  figures  I've  got  to  take  him  short 
from  the  go-off  and  keep  on  shocking  him 
so  fast  and  so  hard  with  promises  of  devas 
tations  that  he  won't  have  time  to  catch  up 
with  his  thinking,  and  then  at  the  proper 
time  dash  the  mainest  jolt  of  all  right  bang 
in  his  face. 

But  before  that  proper  minute  comes  he's 
got  to  be  rightly  prepared  in  his  mind  for 
it.  He's  got  to  be  hearing  mournful  music 
and  muffled  drums  beating  in  his  ears.  He's 
got  to  feel  an  icy  cold  breath  blowing  on 
his  overhet  temples.  He's  got  to  have  a 
raging  fever  in  his  forehead,  but  a  heavy 
frost  congealing  his  feet.  And  most  of  all 
he's  got  to  have  a  sad  picture  dancing  be 
fore  his  eyes  of  from  six  to  twelve  of  his 
most  intimate  friends  getting  measured  for 
white  gloves.  Just  let  them  things  come  to 
pass,  sort  of  simultaneous,  and  it's  sure  go- 


Pistol  Plays          237 

ing  to  be  a  case  of  Sukey,  bar  the  door,  with 
our  gentleman  friend! 

Leastwise,  that  is  the  way  I  organizes  it 
in  my  head  whilst  I'm  setting  in  that  there 
little  hall  of  ours  waiting  watchfully.  Be 
fore  a  great  while  I  hears  one  of  the  ele 
vators  stopping  at  our  floor  and  I  hears 
slinky  kitty-cat  steps  coming  along  towards 
our  door.  So  I  knows  that  must  be  him  and 
I  gets  back  and  sort  of  squats  in  the  side 
passage  leading  off  into  the  service  wing,  so 
I  can  come  slipping  out  like  as  if  I  was  in 
a  hurry  to  meet  him  as  he  come  in,  but  had 
been  detained. 

The  door  opens  right  easy  and  in  slides 
Mr.  Raynor,  same  as  a  mouse  into  a  trap. 
I  can  almost  see  his  nose  wrinkling  up  like 
he's  smelling  of  the  cheese  and  craving  to 
start  nibbling  at  it.  He  looks  round  him 
and  sees  me  and  he  gives  me  a  meaning 
wink.  I  makes  motions  to  him  to  be  quiet, 
which  that  ain't  necessary  but  it  helps  the 
play  along  for  me  to  be  plenty  warnful  in 
my  manners;  and  then  I  tiptoes  on  up  the 
hall  towards  the  setting-room,  leading  the 
way  for  him;  and  he  takes  the  hint  and  tip- 


238    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

toes  along  behind  me.  But  at  the  setting- 
room  door  I  slows  up  and  steps  to  one  side 
to  let  him  pass  on  in  first  and  that  gives  me 
a  chance  to  spring  the  catch-bolt  on  the  door 
behind  us,  unbeknownst  to  him.  I  takes  his 
hat  and  coat,  all  the  time  rolling  my  eyes 
round  on  every  side  like  I'm  apprehentious 
somebody  else  might  be  breaking  in  on  us 
from  the  back  part  of  the  apartment,  and 
then  I  says  to  him  in  a  kind  of  a  significat- 
ing  whisper,  I  says : 

"Oh,  Mr.  Raynor,  I  been  truly  oneasy  in 
my  mind  'bout  you — I'm  mouty  sorry  'at 
you  come !" 

"Sorry?"  he  says,  sort  of  startled.  "Why, 
you  telephoned  me  yourself." 

"Yas,  suh,  I  knows  I  did,"  I  says;  "but  I 
wuz  only  obeyin'  awders — an'  anyways  'at 
wuz  befo'  things  begun  to  tek  the  more  ser 
ious  turn  w'ich  they  has  took.  I'd  a-halted 
you  at  the  front  do'  yonder  an'  turned  you 
back  ef  I  could've,  but  I  wuz  delayed  back 
in  the  boss'  baid-room  tryin'  to  argue  him 
out  of  his  notion  an'  tha's  how  come  I  didn't 
git  thar  to  give  you  the  warnin'  word.  Or," 
I  says,  "ef  they'd  a-been  time  an'  I'd  a-got 


Pistol  Plays          239 

the  chance — both  of  w'ich  I  had  neither — 
I'd  a-ketched  you  on  the  telephone  an' 
stopped  you  befo'  ever  you  started  up-town 
frum  the  office.  So  this  move — tollin'  you 
in  yere  an'  fortifyin'  you  up,  suh, — is  the 
onliest  other  one  I  could  think  of,"  I  says; 
"an5  so,  no  matter  how  it  may  turn  out,"  I 
says,  "I  want  you  to  carry  wid  you  the 
'membrunces  'at  I  done  the  level  best  I 
could  fur  you." 

"Say,"  he  says,  "what's  all  this  palaver 
about?"  He's  speaking  quite  bluffy,  but 
even  so  I  can  tell  that  the  uneasiness  is  be 
ginning  to  seep  into  his  ankles.  "Why 
shouldn't  I  come  here?  I  was  sent  for, 
wasn't  I?  For  that  matter,  why  shouldn't 
I  come  without  being  sent  for?  I'm  not 
worried  about  my  position  in  this  row — I'm 
safe." 

"Sh-h-hl"  I  says,  "please,  suh,  sh-h-ht 
Keep  yore  voice  down,"  I  says,  "whutever 
else  you  may  da.  This  ain't  no  time  to  be 
talkin'  loud,"  I  says. 

"I'll  swear  I  don't  get  you,"  he  says.  But 
he's  took  heed  and  now  his  notes  is  low  and 
more  worried-like.  "I'm  asked  to  come  up 


240    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

here  on  a  matter  of  business,  as  I  suppose. 
I  gather  from  your  hints  over  the  telephone 
you  think  youVe  found  out  something 
which  I  might  be  willing  to  give  money  for, 
as  an  exclusive  advance  tip.  So  far,  so 
good;  I'm  always  open  to  reason.  Then  I 
get  here  and  you  behave  as  mysteriously  as 
a  ghost  and  go  sh-h-hing  about  as  though 
somebody  was  dead  on  the  premises. 
What's  the " 

"Oh,  Mr.  Raynor,"  I  says,  "don't  speak 
of  nobody  bein'  daid  on  these  premises.  It 
sounds  too  much  lak  a  dreadin'  perdiction. 
Mr.  Raynor,"  I  says,  "fur  the  sakes  of  all, 
please  lis'sen  an'  lemme  say  my  say  whilst 
they's  yit  time!" 

"All  right,"  he  says;  "go  ahead.  I  won't 
interrupt  again,  although  I  still  don't  see 
why  you  should  take  the  matter  so  seri 
ously."  But  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  when 
he  says  this  he's  grinning  at  me  I  judges 
that  by  now  the  uneasiness  has  started 
crawling  up  his  legs.  It's  one  of  them  sick 
ly,  pestered  grins. 

"Well,  suh,"  I  says,  "all  last  night  an' 
th'ough  the  early  parts  of  this  mawnin'  Mr. 


Pistol  Plays          241 

Dallas  is  been  carryin'  on  lak  he  was  mouty 
nigh  distracted.  Frum  words  w'ich  he  lets 
fall,  partly  to  me  an'  partly  w'en  he's  tawk- 
in'  to  hisse'f,  I  meks  out  'at  the  trouble  is 
on  'count  of  bus'ness  dealin's  'twixt  you  an' 
him,  an'  also  'at  he's  harborin'  a  'special  pet 
gredge  ag'in  you  on  'count  of  somethin'  or 
other.  Fur  a  spell  he  tawked  right  smart 
'bout  a  compermise  settlemint  an'  'at  wuz 
whut  I  wanted  to  tell  you  pussonally  in 
privit — 'at  the  idee  of  a  compermise  settle- 
mint  wuz  floatin'  in  his  mind.  He  didn't 
sleep  none  las'  night  but  he  walked  the  floor 
stiddy  till  pas'  daylight;  an'  all  th'ough 
these  mawnin'  hours,  seemed  lak  to  me,  he's 
been  gittin'  mo'  an'  mo'  antagonized  ez  the 
time  went  by.  Frum  the  symptoms  I  should 
a-knowed  whut  wuz  brewin'.  But  I  reckin 
I  must  a-been  blinded,  whut  wid  things 
bein'  so  out  of  kelter  round  the  'partmint. 
Wen  he  bidden  me  fur  to  call  you  up  an* 
invite  yore  presence  yere  right  away  I  still 
didn't  'spicion  the  true  facts.  But  right 
after  I'd  got  th'ough  telephonin'  down  to 
the  office  I  went  back  to  his  room  to  say 
you'd  be  comin'  shortly  an'  ez  I  stepped  ia 


242   /.  Poindexter^  Colored 

the  do'  an'  seen  him  fumblin'  in  'at  dressin'- 
table  drawer  an'  seen  the  rampagious  look 
w'ich  wuz  on  his  face — oh,  Mr.  Raynor, 
suh,  right  'en  wuz  w'en  my  heart  upset  it- 
se'f  insides  my  chist! 

"  'Cause  I  done  seen  'at  look  on  his  face 
befo'  now;  I  seen  it  fo'  yeahs  ago,  the  time 
w'en  'at  electioneerin'  fuss  of  his  wid  the 
late  Mr.  Dave  Townsend  come  up.  At  leas' 
once't  I  seen  it  on  his  paw's  face  an'  I  seen 
it  mo'  times  'en  once't  on  the  face  of  his 
uncle,  Mr.  Z.  T.  Pulliam,  w'ich  they  called 
him  Hell-Roarin'  Zack  fur  short.  It  runs 
in  the  blood  an'  it  ripens  in  the  breedin' — - 
'at  look  do.  You  don't  never  want  to  tamper 
wid  a  Pulliam — they  comes  untamped  too 
easy!  They  goes  'long  jest  ez  peaceable  an' 
quiet  ez  a  onborn  lamb  up  to  a  suttin  p'int 
an7  'en  'at  look  comes  over  'em  an'  the  by 
standers  starts  removin'  theyselves  to  a  place 
of  safety.  They  calls  it  the  deadly  sign  of 
the  Pulliam  fambly  down  our  way  'cause 
they  knows  whut  it  means — they's  seen  it 
loomin'  th'ough  the  pistol-smoke  too  of'en. 
An'  so " 

"What  sort  of  a  bluff  is  this  you're  trying 


Pistol  Plays          243 

to  hand  me?"  he  says.  But  his  face  all  of  a 
sudden  has  turned  just  the  color  of  chalk 
and  his  voice  is  quivering  so  the  words 
comes  forth  from  between  his  lips  all  sort 
of  broken  up.  The  man's  looks  don't  match 
his  language.  "Are  you  trying  to  tell  me 
there's  gun-play  threatening  around  here? 
Well,  that's  not  done  any  more!" 

"You's  right!"  I  says.  "Wid  the  Pulliam- 
ses,  after  the  fust  shot,  it  ain't  necessary  fur 
it  to  be  done  any  mo' — jest  once't  is  ample! 
They  lets  go  frum  the  hip  an'  they  don't 
rarely  nor  never  miss — I  reckin  it  comes 
natchel  to  'em.  Oh,  Mr.  Raynor,  I  knows 
whut  the  danger  is  better'n  you  possibly 
kin!  An'  oh,  Mr.  Raynor,  I's  so  skeered  on 
yore  'count — you  havin'  been  alluz  mouty 
friendly  to  me  an'  you  still  so  young,  too! 
An'  I's  skeered  on  Mr.  Dallases'  'count  lak- 
wise,  'cause  these  cotehouse  folks  up  yere 
they  prob'ly  won't  'predate  whut  is  the  cus 
tom  of  our  locality  fur  the  settlin'  of  privit 
misunderstandin's  betwixt  gen'elmen.  I'm 
most  crazy  in  my  mind,  ez  you  kin  see!  Ef 
only  I  could  a-got  him  cooled  off  an' 
ca'mmed  down  bef  o'  you  got  yere !  I  tried 


244    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

an'  I  tried  but  'twuzn't  no  use — it  never  is 
no  use  trying  wid  a  Pulliam.  An7  even  now 
ef  only  we  could  onduce  him  to  hole  off  an' 
lis'sen  to  reasonable  argumints  f  rum  you  be- 
fo'  he  cuts  loose!  Oh,  Mr.  Raynor,  I  do 
hope  an'  pray  he  see  fit  to  give  you  a  chanc't 
to  'splain  'way  the  diffe'nces!  But,  oh,  I 
dreads  the  wust!  'Cause  he's  crouchin'  back 
yonder  waitin',  wid  his  trigger-finger 
twitchin',  an'  w'en  he  sees  you " 

"Let  me  out  of  here!"  he  says.  And 
though  he  says  it  kind  of  half-whispering 
yet  he  says  it  kind  of  half-screeching,  too. 

And  with  that  he  makes  a  break  for  the 
door  behind  him,  aiming  to  bust  out  down 
the  hall.  But  it's  locked. 

And  with  that,  likewise  I  turns  over  a 
little  centre-table  and  it  goes  down  on  its 
side  with  a  bang,  which  that  is  the  ordained 
signal  agreed  on  previous,  and  I  lets  a  yell 
out  of  me. 

"Oh,  Lawsy,"  I  yells,  "it's  too  late— yere 
he  is  now!" 

And  then  Mr.  Raynor  ceases  from  paw 
ing  at  the  latch  and  spins  round  and  plast 
ers  himself  flat  against  the  door-panels  like 


Pistol  Plays         245 

he  was  pinned  there,  with  his  arms  stretched 
wide  and  his  fingers  clawing  at  the  wood 
work.  And  here,  in  through  the  curtains 
of  the  library  door  comes  Mr.  Dallas,  that's 
all,  stepping  light  on  the  balls  of  his  feet, 
with  his  eyes  blazing  and  his  hair  all 
mussed-up,  and  down  at  his  right  side,  it 
swinging  loose  and  free,  he's  carrying  that 
three-pound  chunk  of  Snake-Eye  Jamison's 
shootlery.  I  don't  know  whether  it's  the 
excitement,  or  the  spell  of  the  play-acting 
on  him,  or  the  righteous  mad  which  is  in 
him,  but  he  looks  so  perilous  I'm  mighty 
near  scared  of  him  my  own  self.  And  even 
though  he  ain't  never  toted  no  pistol  before 
in  his  life  he's  handling  this  here  big  blue 
borrowed  smoke-wagon  like  he'd  cut  his 
milk-teeth  on  one.  And  I'm  mighty  glad 
she  ain't  loaded,  neither;  else  he  might  start 
living  up  to  the  reputation  I've  done  en 
dowed  him  with. 

That's  all,  but  that's  plenty!  As  Mr. 
H.  C.  Raynor's  knees  begins  giving  way 
under  him  he  starts  in  to  pleading  at  the 
top  of  his  voice.  You  could  a-heard  him 
plumb  down  in  the  street  I  reckon. 


246    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

"For  God's  sake,"  he  begs,  "don't  shoot  1 
For  God's  sake,  don't  shoot  yet!  Give  me 
a  minute — give  me  time  to  explain!  I'll 
do  anything  you  say,  Pulliam — we  can 
square  this  thing!  Only,  for  God's  sake, 
don't  shoot!" 

By  the  time  he's  got  this  much  out  of  him 
he's  setting  down  flat  against  the  door,  with 
his  legs  stretched  out  straight  in  front  of 
him  and  his  feet  kind  of  dancing  on  the  floor 
so  that  his  heels  makes  little  knocking 
sounds.  He  looks  like  he's  fixing  to  faint 
away.  Maybe  he  did  faint,  but  if  he  did, 
I  know  the  f aintfulness  didn't  get  no  higher 
up  than  his  throat,  because  the  last  thing  I 
heard  as  I  went  on  out  from  there  through 
the  library,  was  him  still  babbling  away. 

Up  till  the  time  I  left,  Mr.  Dallas  hadn't 
spoke  nary  word — just  stood  there  wagging 
that  there  chunk  of  hardware  in  the  general 
direction  of  Mr.  Raynor  and  licking  at  his 
lips  with  his  tongue,  sort  of  eager-like. 
(Veil,  thus  far,  it  hadn't  been  necessary  for 
him  to  say  nothing — Mr.  Raynor  was  doing 
enough  talking  for  any  number  you  might 
care  to  name,  up  to  half  a  dozen. 


Piebald  Joys         247 


CHAPTER  XX 

Piebald  Joys 

IT'S  maybe  twenty  minutes  later  on  when 
Mr.  Dallas  calls  to  me  to  come  to  him 
and  bring  Koga  with  me,  him  saying 
the  both  of  us  is  required  for  to  witness  an 
agreement  which  has  been  drawed  up. 
Right  then  and  there  for  the  first  and  last 
time  in  my  life,  that  there  Japanee  boy  wins 
my  admirations.  He  don't  bat  a  single  eye 
lash  as  he  follows  me  in  where  they  is.  He 
acts  like  all  his  life  he'd  been  used  to  walk 
ing  into  a  settingroom  and  finding  two  gen 
tlemen  there,  one  of  'em  with  a  pistol  and 
the  other  with  a  hard  chill.  He  just  sucks 
his  breath  in  once  or  twice  and  starts  smil 
ing  very  pleasant  upon  one  and  all.  I 
judges  he  must  a-been  brought  up  in  a  kind 
of  a  rough  neighborhood  over  in  his  own 
country. 
Mr.  Raynor  has  done  rose  up  from  the 


248    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

floor  by  this  time,  and  is  setting  in  a  chair 
where  he  can  be  more  comfortable;  at  that, 
he  ain't  seeming  totally  comfortable.  His 
teeth  and  his  hands  and  his  feet  keeps  on 
misbehaving,  and  he  looks  to  me  like  he's 
been  losing  considerable  flesh  even  in  that 
short  time  since  I  left  him.  His  complex 
ion  also  remains  very  bad.  You'd  say,  off 
hand,  here  was  a  gentleman  fixing  to  be 
taken  down  with  a  severe  spell  of  illness,  or 
else  just  getting  over  one  and  still  far  from 
well. 

He  puts  his  name  to  a  piece  of  writing 
which  is  spread  out  on  the  table,  Mr.  Dallas 
standing  over  him  and  sort  of  indicating 
the  place  to  him  with  the  nozzle  of  that 
there  trusty  old  forty-four.  He  has  some 
difficulty  in  getting  his  name  set  down  by 
reason  of  him  keeping  flinching  away  from 
the  gun  and  also  on  account  of  his  fingers 
being  so  out  of  control.  Then  me  and  Koga 
likewise  signs  and  whilst  I  is  so  doing  I  re 
joices  to  note  that  the  document  is  all  done 
in  Mr.  Dallases'  handwriting. 

When  this  has  been  attended  to  there  does 
not  seem  to  be  no  reason  why  Mr.  Raynor 


Piebald  Joys          249 

should  linger  longer  amongst  us.  He  indi 
cates  that  he  craves  to  go  but  still  don't  ac 
tually  go  till  Mr.  Dallas  gives  him  the 
word.  For  such  a  previously  brash  white 
man  he  certainly  has  been  rendered  very 
docile.  And  dumb — huh!  Alongside  of 
him  guinea-pigs  is  plumb  rambunctuous. 
I  helps  him  on  with  his  overcoat,  which 
he  has  trouble  getting  into  it  by  reason  of 
not  seeming  to  be  able  to  stick  his  arms  into 
the  sleeves  until  after  several  tries;  and  such 
is  his  agitated  feelings  that  he  starts  off  for 
getting  his  hat.  I  puts  it  on  his  head  for 
him,  him  not  saying  a  word  but  just  staring 
about  him  kind  of  null  and  void,  and  now 
and  then  shivering  slightly;  and  as  he  goes 
down  the  hall  towards  the  elevator  he's  got 
one  hand  sort  of  pressed  up  against  the  wall 
for  to  support  him  on  his  way.  If  I'd  been 
him  I  should  a-went  right  straight  on  home 
and  laid  down  for  a  spell.  Probably  that's 
what  he  did  do.  I  know  I  ain't  seen  hair 
nor  hide  of  him  since  and  I  ain't  expecting 
to  do  so,  neither,  without  we  should  run  into 
one  another  by  accident  on  the  street  some 
time. 


250   /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

As  I  comes  back  from  the  front  door  after 
seeing  him  safely  off,  Mr.  Dallas  is  wait 
ing  for  me  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  with 
a  grin  on  his  face,  which  it  mighty  near 
splits  his  face  in  half  across  the  middle. 
He  lays  down  the  agreement  paper  and  the 
artillery  so  he  can  shake  hands  with  me 
with  both  hands. 

"Jeff,"  he  says,  "for  the  second  time  in 
less  than  two  hours  let  me  tender  you  my 
earnest  congratulations  and  my  everlasting 
gratitude.  Thanks  to  you,"  he  says,  "and 
you  alone,  I'm  getting  out  of  the  double- 
barreled  hole  I  was  m,  reasonably  intact. 
What's  gone  I'll  gladly  charge  up  to  profit 
and  loss  and  valuable  experience.  What's 
left  is  a  whole  lot  more  than  I  had  dared  to 
hope  it  would  be  before  you  took  a  hand. 
When  I  look  back  on  my  feelings  last  night 
and  contrast  them  with  my  feelings  today — 
say,  by  Jupiter!"  he  says,  "come  to  think  of 
it,  it's  all  happened  between  late  dinner 
time  of  one  day  and  late  lunch-time  of  the 
next!  It  doesn't  seem  possible!  What  can 
I  do  to  square  myself  with  you  for  the  debt 
I  owe  you?" 


Piebald  Joys          251 

"Well,  suh,"  I  says,  "you  mout  start  in 
to  please  me  by  eatin'  a  111'  somethin'.  Yore 
speakin'  of  lunch-time  'minds  me  'at  you 
ain't  been  right  constant  at  yore  meals  lately, 
Whut  you  needs,"  I  says,  "is  to  git  yore  ap 
petite  back  an'  stow  a  smidgin'  of  warm 
vittles  down  yore  insides." 

"Jeff,"  he  says,  still  hanging  onto  my 
hands  and  pumping  'em  so  fervent  it  makes 
me  feel  right  diffident  for  him  to  be  doing 
so,  "you're  the  doctor  and  your  prescrip 
tions  suit  me.  Bring  on  the  grub!  Say  it 
with  chowders!  We'll  celebrate,"  he  says, 
"over  the  festal  hot  biscuits!  What,  ho,  for 
the  wassail  waffles !" 

And  with  that  he  goes  prancing  about 
over  the  room  dragging  me  along  with  him, 
like  he  was,  say,  about  nine  years  old,  going 
on  ten. 


252   /.  Poindcxter,  Colored 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Headed  Home 

FOR  a  fact,  that  meal  which  he  eats  is 
more  like  a  celebration  than  a  regu 
lation  meal,  but  considering  of  every 
thing,  I  reckon  that's  no  more  than  what  is 
to  be  expected. 

He's  half  way  through  with  his  second 
helpings  of  the  lamb  chops  when  he  looks 
up  at  me  where  I'm  standing  back  of  his 
chair  and  he  says  to  me  with  one  of  them 
old-time  little-boy  twinkles  in  his  eye,  like 
he  used  to  have: 

"Jeff,"  he  says,  "you  certainly  can  paint 
a  fanciful  picture  when  you  set  yourself  to 
it.  When  I  think  of  the  blood-thirsty  char 
acteristics  which  you  bestowed  upon  those 
devout  and  peace-loving  ancestors  of  mine 
I  have  to  stop  eating  and  laugh  again." 

"You  must  a-been  lis'senin'  'en,"  I  says. 

"I  overheard  part  of  the  tale  from  behind 


Headed  Home        253 

the  portieres,"  he  says.  "Oh,  but  it  was 
great  stuff,  and  highly  convincing!  Even 
in  that  crucial  moment  I  could  appreciate 
your  deft  touches." 

"You  ain't  knowin'  the  ha'f  of  it'yit,  suh," 
I  says.  "Wait  till  you  hears  tell  'bout  them 
fictionary  kinsfolks  I's  conferred  *pon  you 
in  Another  quarter  an'  how  I  endowed  the 
whole  passil  of  'em  wid  the  chronic  failin' 
of  bein'  onreliable  in  the  haid.  I  'spects 
you'll  want  to  use  'at  pistol  shore-'nuff  in 
earnest  'en." 

"Not  me,"  he  says;  "not  me.  I'll  give 
three  ringing  cheers  for  your  superior  in 
ventive  qualities.  If  I  had  your  power  of 
imagination  I'd  charge  admission,"  he  says. 

"I'm  glad  you  feels  'at  way,  suh,"  I  says, 
"but  I  shore  does  aim  to  walk  wide  of  the 
deceasted  members  of  the  Pulliam  fambly 
w'en  I  crosses  over  to  the  fur  side  of  the 
deep  River  of  Jordan,"  I  says.  "I  ain't 
cravin'  to  git  in  no  jam  wid  any  ole  resi- 
denter  angels  till  I's  used  to  bein'  one  my- 
se'f.  I  wonder,"  I  says,  "whut  Mr.  H.  C. 
Raynor  'd  think  ef  he  knowed  'at  yore  Uncle 
Zachary  wuz  a  Persistin'  Elder  of  the 


254    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

Southern  Meth'dis'  Church  fur  goin'  on 
twenty  yeahs?" 

"Never  mind  what  he  thinks  now  or  here 
after,"  he  says.  "It's  what  my  late  partner 
did  that  counts.  Anyhow,  you  didn't  de 
ceive  him  when  you  told  him  Uncle  Zach's 
nickname." 

"  'At  did  fit  in  nice,"  I  says;  "me  remem- 
b'rin',  jest  in  the  nick  of  time,  'at  they  called 
the  ole  gen'elman  Hell  Roarin'  Zach  by 
reason  of  his  exhortin'  powers  w'en  'scribin' 
them  brimstones  an'  them  hot  fires  bein'  so 
potent  'at  the  sinners  could  smell  'em  an' 
shiver.  Well,  suh,  tha's  all  part  of  my  sys 
tem  :  Stir  a  slight  seasonin'  of  truthfulness 
into  the  mixture  frum  time  to  time  an'  it 
meks  the  batter  stand  up  stiffen  An'  also 
don't  never  waste  a  good  lie  widout  you  has 
to — save  'em  till  you  needs  'em.  Tha's  my 
motto,  suh." 

"And  I  subscribe  to  it,"  he  says,  and  he 
chuckles  some  more.  In  fact  he's  chuck 
ling  right  straight  along  till  he  gets  up  from 
the  table.  Then  he  rears  back  in  a  chair  and 
sets  a  cigar  going.  He  makes  me  take  a 
cigar,  too,  which  it  is  the  first  time  I  has 


Headed  Home        255 

ever  smoked  in  a  white  gentleman's  pres 
ence  whilst  serving  him.  But  this  is  a  spec 
ial  occasion  and  more  like  a  jollification 
than  anything  else.  So  I  starts  puffing  on 
her  when  my  Young  Cap'n  insists  upon  it; 
and  then,  at  his  command,  I  just  lit  in  and 
told  him  all  what  had  happened  at  Miss 
DeWitt's  flat  that  morning  and  about  a  lot 
of  other  things — things  I'd  overheard  and 
things  I'd  suspicioned — which  it  had  not 
seemed  fitten  to  tell  'em  to  him  before  this, 
but  now  both  time  and  place  appears  suit 
able. 

Talking  about  one  thing  leads  to  talking 
about  another,  as  it  will,  and  presently  I 
finds  myself  confiding  to  him  the  expective 
undertakings  of  the  firm  of  Poindexter  & 
Petty,  which  that  is  all  news  out  of  a  clear 
sky  to  him,  seeing  as  I'd  kept  this  to  myself 
as  a  private  matter  in  the  early  stages.  He 
says  he'd  sort  of  figured,  though,  I  had 
something  up  my  sleeves,  by  reason  of  my 
having  seemed  so  interested  in  the  moving- 
picture  business  and  all.  And  though  he 
don't  say  so,  I  judges  he  figures  out,  too, 
that  here  lately  I  maybe  has  refrained  from 


256    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

speaking  to  him  about  my  own  affairs  when 
he  was  so  pesticated  about  his  own — which 
also,  more  or  less,  is  the  truth  of  it. 

But  now  he's  deeply  interested  and  'lows 
he  wants  to  hear  more.  He  states  that  while 
he's  sorry  on  his  own  account  that  I  is  not 
going  back  home  with  him  when  he  goes, 
which  that  will  be  just  as  soon  as  he  can 
clean  up  things  here  and  sell  off  the  lease  on 
the  apartment  and  so  forth,  still,  he  says, 
he's  glad  for  my  sake  that  I'm  going  to  stay 
on  since  I've  got  bright  prospects  ahead  of 
me  for  to  break  into  the  business  life  of  the 
Great  City.  Him  saying  this  so  kindly  in 
spires  me  to  go  on  and  tell  him  all  about 
our  plans  and  purposes.  I  says  that  the  out 
look  is  that  me  and  'Lisses  Petty  will  be 
ready  to  open  up  pretty  soon,  seeing  as  I  has 
had  word  just  two  days  before  from  Mr. 
Simons  that  he's  almost  ready  to  cut  loose 
with  his  announcements  in  the  papers.  I'm 
going  on  further  along  this  line  when  all 
of  a  sudden  he  busts  in  to  ask  me  what  about 
the  old  judge  coming  home  in  the  spring 
time  from  foreign-off  parts  and  not  finding 
me  there  to  meet  him? 


Headed  Home        257 

Well,  sirs,  that  do  fetch  me  up  short  with 
a  jar!  Because,  if  it  must  be  confessed,  I've 
got  to  admit  I  has  been  so  carried  away  with 
my  own  pet  schemes  that  the  thought  of  my 
obligations  to  Judge  Priest  is  done  en 
tirely  escaped  out  of  my  foolish  mind.  I 
hates  to  draw  back  from  them  new  ambi 
tions  of  mine  and  yet,  seems  like,  I  can't 
hardly  bear  the  notion  of  breaking  my 
bounden  promises  to  my  old  boss-man  after 
the  way  we'd  been  associated  together  under 
the  same  roof  for  going  on  it's  sixteen  years. 
What  with  the  one  thing  pulling  me  this 
here  way  and  the  other  thing  pulling  me 
that  there  way,  all  of  a  sudden  I  now  gets  a 
kind  of  a  choked-up  feeling  in  my  breast. 
I  don't  know  whether  it's  the  wrench  at  my 
heart  or  the  strain  on  my  wishbone.  But  it's 
there!  So  I  ups  and  puts  the  proposition 
before  the  Young  Cap'n  and  I  asks  what  he 
thinks  I  should  do? 

He  studies  a  minute  and  then  he  says  to 
me,  he  says : 

"Jeff,"  he  says,  "I'll  tell  you  how  I  feel 
about  it  and  if,  in  view  of  the  lack  of  judg 
ment  I've  shown  recently  in  certain  other 


258    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

matters,  you  still  regard  my  advice  as  being 
worth  anything,  you're  welcome  to  it.  You 
believe  youVe  got  a  chance  to  make  good 
up  here,  don't  you?  Well,  then,  I  believe 
it's  your  duty  to  yourself,  regardless  of  al 
most  every  other  consideration,  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  that  chance.  And  I'm  positive 
Judge  Priest  will  feel  the  same  way  about 
it  when  he  learns  the  situation.  I  believe 
he'll  gladly  release  you  from  any  obliga 
tions  you  may  owe  him.  In  fact,  knowing 
him  so  well,  I'll  bank  on  it.  With  your  con 
sent  I'll  write  him  tonight,  a  long  letter, 
setting  forth  the  exact  conditions.  How 
does  that  strike  you." 

I  tells  him  I  is  agreeable  to  that.  But  I 
says  to  him,  I  says : 

"Mr.  Dallas,  one  thing  more,  please,  suh? 
In  yore  letter  tell  the  Jedge  'at  w'en  he  gits 
back,  ef  he  finds  the  home-place  ain't  run- 
nin'  to  suit  him  widout  me  on  hand  to  he'p 
look  after  his  comfort,  w'y  all  he's  got  do 
is  jest  lemme  know  an'  I'll  ketch  the  next 
train  fur  home.  Ef  the  bus'ness  yere  can't 
run  herse'f  aw'ile  wid  'Lisses  Petty  alone 


Headed  Home        259 

on  the  job  by  hisse'f ,  then  let  the  whole  she 
bang  go  busted — tha's  all. 

"Lis'sen,  Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says,  "I  got  yit 
'nother  idee  in  my  haid — I  craves  to  demer- 
strate  one  thing!  They's  some  w'ite 
folkses  w'ich  claims  the  run  of  black  folks 
nowadays  ain't  got  no  proper  sense  of  grat 
itudes  nor  faithfulness,  neither.  They 
claims  'at  the  new-issue  cullid  ain't  lak  the 
ole-timers  of  the  race  wuz — 'at  they  furgits 
favors  an'  bre'ks  pledges  an'  sometimes 
turns  an'  bites  the  hand  w'ich  has  fed  an' 
fondled  'em.  Mebbe  they  is  right — I  ain't 
'sputin'  they  ain't,  in  some  cases.  But  I  is 
sayin'  they  is  one  shiny  black  nigger  jest 
rearin'  to  prove  the  contrarywise  so  fur  ez 
he  pussonally  is  concern',  w'ich  I'm,"  I  says, 
"him! 

"An'  in  fu'ther  proof  whar'of,"  I  says, 
"I  begs  you  to  mek  me  a  solemn  promise, 
yere  an'  now.  I  asts  you,  please,  suh,  to  keep 
yo  eye  on  the  ole  boss-man  an'  ef  he  sh'd 
show  the  onfailin'  signs  of  feeblin'-up  an* 
bre'kin'  down — w'ich  is  only  to  be  'spected, 
seein'  ez  he  is  gittin'  'long  so  in  yeahs — I 
don't  want  you  to  wait  'twell  he  notifies  me 


260    /.  Poin dexter,  Colored 

hisse'f  'at  he's  needin'  me.  'Cause  the 
chances  is  he  wouldn't  do  it,  noways,  effen 
he  feared  it  mout  mean  a  sacrifice  on  my 
part  fur  me  to  come  to  him.  I  wants  you 
to  send  me  the  word  on  yore  own  'sponsi- 
bility  an'  I'll  git  to  his  side  jest  ez  fast  ez 
them  steam-cyars  kin  tote  me." 

He  says  he  is  glad  I  feels  thus-and-so 
about  it  and  he  gladly  passes  his  word  to  do 
like  I  asked  him,  if  the  situation  arises. 
With  this  here  point  settled  he  guides  me 
back  to  tell  him  yet  more  about  the  pros 
pects  of  Poindexter  &  Petty.  Which  I 
ain't  needing  much  prompting  there,  seeing 
as  the  said  projects  lays  close  to  my  heart 
and  my  mind.  I  tells  him  we  has  reached 
the  point  where  we  is  about  to  close  the  deal 
for  the  office.  In  fact,  I  says,  I  has  been 
calculating  some  on  running  up-town  to  see 
'Lisses  about  that  very  detail  this  same  af 
ternoon  providing  he  don't  need  me  round 
the  apartment  to  do  something  or  other  for 
him.  Whereupon  he  up  and  says  an  aston 
ishing  thing : 

"I'll  go  along  with  you  if  you  don't 
mind,"  he  says.  "I  want  to  have  a  look  at 


Headed  Home        261 

this  associate  of  yours  and  get  his  views. 
I'd  like  to  do  more  than  that  if  it  can  be  ar 
ranged;  I'd  like  to  lend  my  aid  in  helping 
to  put  this  enterprise  on  its  feet — to  feel 
that,  in  one  way  or  another,  I  had  a  friendly 
hand  in  it.  I'm  your  eternal  debtor,  you 
know,  Jeff." 

"Go  'way  frum  yere,  Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says, 
"an'  quit  yore  foolin'.  Whut  bus'ness  has 
you  got  gittin'  yo'se'f  mixed  in  wid  a  pack 
of  nigger-rubbage?  Whut  would  the  rest 
of  the  high-toned  folks  down  home  say  ef 
they  heared  of  any  sech  goings-on  'pon  yore 
part?  Tell  me 'at,  suh?" 

"Never  mind  what  they'd  think  or  what 
they'd  say,"  he  says;  "that's  my  look-out. 
Tell  me  the  truth  now,  Jeff, — have  you  two 
boys  got  all  the  money  you  need  to  start  you 
up  and  to  keep  you  going  until  your  agency 
begins  to  pay?" 

At  that  I  has  to  admit  to  him  that  the 
prior  expenses  has  been  right  smart  heavier 
than  what  us  two  had  figured  on  at  the 
start-off. 

"That's  what  I  rather  suspected,"  he  says. 
"Now  then,  I've  got  out  of  my  own  compli- 


262    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

cations  in  much  better  shape  than  I'd  ever 
dreamed  I  could.  I  still  have  a  sizeable 
stake  left.  In  fact  I  figure  I've  got  just 
about  a  thousand  dollars  to  spare.  If  you 
don't  feel  like  taking  a  thousand  dollars 
from  me  as  a  gift,  or  in  part  payment  for 
your  services  to  me  during  the  past  twenty- 
odd  hours,  why  not  take  it  as  a  loan  without 
interest  until  you  get  on  your  feet,  or  until 
you've  had  ample  opportunity  to  try  this 
new  venture  out  thoroughly — No,  by  Jove, 
I've  got  a  better  plan  than  that!  I  want  to 
stick  that  thousand  in  as  an  investment  along 
with  you  two  boys.  If  I  never  get  it  back,  or 
any  part  of  it,  I'll  count  it  money  well-spent. 
I've  made  a  number  of  other  investments  in 
my  bright  young  life  that  didn't  pay  either, 
and  I'll  be  drawing  regular  dividends  on 
this  one,  even  though  they  may  not  be  in 
terms  of  dollars  and  cents.  Come  on — let's 
go  see  this  friend,  Petty,  of  yours.  You 
can't  keep  me  out  of  the  deal  on  anything 
short  of  an  injunction." 

What  is  you  going  to  do  with  a  hard- 
headed  white  man  when  he  gets  his  neck 
bowed  that-a-way?  You  is  going  to  do  just 


Headed  Home       263 

what  we  done,  that's  what  you  going  do! 
So  that's  how  come  Poindexter  &  Petty  is 
now  got  for  their  silent  partner  a  member 
of  one  of  the  oldest  families  in  West  Ken 
tucky  and  pure  quality  from  the  feet  up. 

I  has  come  mighty  close  to  forgetting  one 
other  thing  which  happens  before  we  leaves 
the  place  to  go  on  up  to  Harlem.  I  is  help 
ing  him  on  with  his  coat  when  he  says : 

"Wait  a  minute  1  I  want  to  write  out  some 
telegrams  first.  I  want  to  send  one  to  my 
lawyer,  Mr.  Jere  Fairleigh,  stating  that  the 
Prodigal  will  shortly  be  on  his  way  back, 
and  one  to  my  cousin  to  have  the  home- 
place  opened  up  for  me — and  one  other. 
I've  gotten  rather  behind  with  my  corres 
pondence  lately;  I'll  do  some  letter-writing 
tonight.  But  I'll  wire  on  ahead  first.  You 
call  a  messenger-boy,  Jeff." 

I  trusts  I  is  not  no  spy  but  I  fust  can't 
keep  from  peeping  over  his  shoulder  whilst 
he's  writing  out  that  there  third  telegram — 
which  it  is  pretty  near  long  enough  to  be  a 
letter  itself — and  I  is  rejoiced  in  my  soul 
to  note  that  it's  being  sent  to  the  one  I  hoped 
'twas — and  that's  Miss  Henrietta  Farrell. 


264    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Last  Words 

WELL,  I  got  my  Young  Cap'n  off 
this  morning.  I  has  to  admit  that 
I  begun  contracting  a  kind  of  a 
let-down  feeling  in  my  mind  as  the  time 
drawed  near  for  us  to  say  our  farewells  to 
one  another.  You  couldn't  exactly  call  it 
home-sickness  nor  yet  downright  sorrow 
fulness;  it  was  kind  of  a  mixed  sensation, 
with  regretitude  and  lonesomeness  and 
gladsomeness  all  scrambled  up  together, 
and  running  through  it,  a  knowledge  that 
I'm  going  to  miss  him  mighty  much  for 
awhile,  anyhow.  I  certainly  has  grown 
powerful  devoted  to  him  since  last  summer 
and  I  knows  full  well  that,  from  his  stand 
point,  he  must  have  similar  regards  towards 
me,  I  reckon  our  own  kind  of  folks  can 
appreciate  how  this  attachment  could 


Last  Words         265 

a-sprung  up  betwixt  us,  even  if  most  of 
these  here  Northerners  can't. 

It  must  be  that  my  looks  more  or  less  be 
trays  my  emotions  as  the  parting  time  draws 
closer,  because  he  keeps  on  speaking  cheer 
ing  utterances  to  me  about  other  matters, 
without  mentioning  the  nearby  separation; 
which  I  appreciates  the  spirit  behind  his 
words  as  much  as  I  does  the  words  them 
selves.  If  I  told  it  to  him  once  at  that  depot 
I  suppose  I  must  a-told  it  to  him  a  dozen 
times,  to  give  my  most  respectful  regards  to 
the  old  boss-man  when  next  he  sees  him. 
And  he  keeps  saying  to  me  I  must  write 
regular  and  keep  him  posted  on  everything 
in  general. 

"I's  shore  countin'  on  seein'  you  down 
home  next  summer  w'en  I  comes  down  on  a 
visit,"  I  says;  "I's  already  mekin'  my  plans 
'cordin'ly.  Mebbe,"  I  says,  "you  mout 
ketch  me  sneakin'  in  even  sooner  'en  'at,  ef 
so  be  this  yere  bookin'  agency  business  teks 
a  notion  to  blow  up  on  us." 

"I've  got  a  conviction  you'll  make  good," 
he  says.  "If  the  first  venture  doesn't  pan 
out  I'll  trust  in  you  to  light  on  your  feet 


266    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

somewhere  else — I've  seen  you  in  opera 
tion,  you  know."  Then  he  goes  on,  speak 
ing  now  a  little  bit  wistf ul-like :  "You  seem 
able  to  figure  out  a  way  to  beat  this  New 
York  game,  by  playing  it  according  to  your 
own  set  of  rules.  But  I  couldn't  do  it — I 
had  it  proven  to  me  and  the  proof  cost  me 
money.  I'm  through — and  ought  to  be  glad 
of  it.  You're  just  starting." 

"Well,  suh,"  I  says,  "I  does  my  best.  The 
way  I  looks  at  this  town,"  I  says,  "is  this 
yere  way:  Jest  ez  soon  ez  you  gits  over  bein' 
daunted-up  by  the  size  of  her,  the  best 
scheme  is  to  start  in  lettin'  on  lak  you  knows 
mo'  'bout  'most  ever'thin'  'en  whut  the  folk- 
ses  does  w'ich  has  been  livin'  yere  all  along. 
That'll  fetch  'em  ef  anything  will,  or  else 
I  misses  my  guess.  This  is  the  onliest  place 
I  knows  of,"  I  says,  "whar  a  shined-up 
counterfeit  passes  muster  jest  ez  well  ez  the 
pyure  gold,  ef  not  better,  'specially  ef  the 
gold  happens  to  be  sort  of  dulled-down  an' 
tarnished-lookin'.  The  very  way  the  town 
is  laid  out  he'ps  to  clarify  my  p'int,  suh," 
I  says.  "She's  fenced  in  betwixt  a  bluff  on 
one  side  an'  a  Sound  on  the  other,  an'  she's 


Last  Words         267 

sufferin'  frum  the  effects  of  her  own  jog- 
graphy.  Jest  combine  in  yore  daily  actions 
the  biggest  of  bluffs  an'  the  most  roarin'  of 
sounds  an'  she's  liable  to  lay  down  at  yore 
feet  an'  roll  over  at  yore  command.  Leas'- 
wise,"  I  says,  "them's  rny  beliefs." 

"Probably  you  are  right,"  he  says. 
"Well,  Jeff,  try  not  to  let  these  people  up 
here  spoil  you  and  make  you  fresh  and  im 
pudent.  I  don't  believe  they  will,  though." 

"Oh,  but  you  is  wrong  thar,  suh,"  I  says. 
"I  kin  tek  spilin'  ez  well  ez  the  nex'  one.  Ef 
they  aims  to  come  edgin'  'crost  the  culler- 
line  in  my  direction,  I  ain't  the  one  to 
hender  'em.  Whut  they  gives,  I'll  tek  an' 
a  HI'  bit  mo'.  Ef  they  ain't  had  the  Vantage 
of  bein'  raised  the  way  you  an'  me  is,  an' 
wants  fur  to  pamper  me  all  up,  I'm  goin'  to 
let  'em  do  so.  Fact  is,  Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says, 
"I's  gittin'  pampered  already.  Lemme 
show  you  something  suh,  in  strictes'  confi 
dences — yere's  a  perfessional  callin'-cyard, 
w'ich  I  had  a  lot  of  'em  struck  off  yistiddy 
at  a  printin'-shop  over  on  Columbus  Ave 
nue."  And  I  deals  the  top  one  off  of  the 
pack  in  my  vest  pocket  and  hands  it  over  to 


268    /.  Poindexter,  Colored 

him.  "See  whut  it  sez,"  I  says.  "It  sez, 
'Col.  J.  Exeter  Poindexter,  Esq.'  " 

"How  did  you  work  that  arrangement 
out?"  he  says,  smiling. 

"Mouty  easy-lak,"  I  says.  "  'Col.'  is  short 
for  'cullid',  ain't  it?  So  I  jest  shortens  up 
'cullid'  into  'Col.'  an'  switches  it  frum  the 
caboose  end  to  the  front  end.  An'  I  changes 
my  middle  name  to  'Exeter'  w'ich  it  has  a 
mo'  stylish  sound  to  it  'en  whut  'Exodus' 
had.  An'  I  tacks  on  the  'Esq.'  at  the  fur 
endin'  to  mek  it  still  mo'  bindin',  lak  the 
button  on  a  rattle-snake's  tail.  An'  thar 
you  is,  suh!" 

"But  you  are  not  a  colonel — yet,"  he  says. 

"Whut's  the  diff'unce,"  I  says,  "so  long 
ez  these  yere  folkses  don't  know  no  better. 
They  fattens  on  bein'  deceived.  An',  any 
way,"  I  says,  "I  aims  fur  to  cultivate  the 
military  manner.  Mr.  Dallas,"  I  says, 
"don't  mek  no  mistek  'bout  it — Fs  gittin' 
fresh  already,  w'ich  it  is  the  customary  cus 
tom  yere,  an'  the  chances  is  I'll  git  still 
fresher  yit.  But  it'll  be  fur  Noo  Yawk 
pu'pposes  'sclusively.  Wen  I  meets  up  wid 
one  of  my  own  kind  of  w'ite  folks  in  these 


Last  Words         269 

parts  or  w'en  I  goes  back  ag'in  amongst  my 
own  folks  down  below  the  Line,  I'll  know 
my  place  an'  my  station  an'  I'll  respec'  'em 
both;  an'  I'll  be  jest  the  same  plain  reg'lar 
ole  J.  Poindexter,  Cullid,  w'ich  you  alluz 
has  knowed.  Please,  suh,  tell  Jedge  Priest 
'at  fur  me,  too !"  I  says. 

The  time  comes  for  him  to  get  aboard 
without  he  wants  to  miss  his  train.  So  we 
says  our  parting  words.  I  reckons  some  of 
them  white  foreigners  standing  there  gap 
ing  at  us  can't  understand  why  it  is  that  Mr. 
Dallas,  and  him  a  Southern-born  white 
gentleman,  should  throw  his  arm  around 
my  shoulder  at  the  farewell  moment  and  pat 
me  on  the  back.  But  then,  of  course,  that's 
due  to  the  ignorance  of  their  raisings  and 
probably  they  is  not  to  blame  so  much  after 
all. 

I  will  now  draw  to  a  close  with  the  above 
accounts.  Writing  is  a  sight  harder  work 
than  I  thought  it  would  be  when  I  set  in 
to  do  this  authorizing,  and  I  is  not  sorry 
to  be  shut  of  the  job.  Anyway,  from  now 
on,  I'm  a  New  York  business  man,  which 


270   /.  Poindexter>  Colored 

I  counts  on  it  paying  better  than  writing  for 
a  living,  if  only  Fve  got  the  right  salt  for 
sprinkling  on  the  Luck-Bird's  tail. 
I  think  I  has. 


THE  END 


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LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

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18350? 

Cobb,   I.S.  01? 

J.   Poindexter,  J6 

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LIBRARY 

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